Trailtramps

Just walk.

Lately I’ve been obsessed with the thought of living life with a purpose. I don’t feel like I’ve done a bad job with the purpose and ministry of my life so far, but I want more. I want to look forward to waking up every morning knowing I have a purpose, (more than just sustaining my own life.). And I want to lay my head on the pillow at night feeling like my life meant something measurable to the people I touched. So, when Pastor Risto mentioned that our church would be manning a prayer tent at the Relay For Life,,, I thought, ”I can do that”. I didn’t (I never do) sign up for any specific detail. I don’t like to commit to anything I might not be able to fulfill.

All day Friday I thought about what and how to pray for people at the Relay for Life. I tried to consider what any individual might need. Late Friday afternoon I printed up ten copied of Horatio Spafford’s It is Well With My Soul : (I’ll copy it here because although many people sing this old Hymn and it’s fairly well known, it’s seldom read as a message, as a prayer.

When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to know,a
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
Refrain:
It is well, (it is well),
With my soul, (with my soul)
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life,
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.
But Lord, ’tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!
Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul.
And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
A song in the night, oh my soul!

I sealed each copy in a plastic baggie to keep them safe from the rain and tucked them away for the night. My plan was to give all ten copies to someone.

I figured I’d join the late night crew, suspecting that if an extra body was needed, it might be then. Of course,,, a hurricane had to be passing through New England on Friday Night. I got to the field a little after 9:00 at night and started wandering around looking for the prayer tent. I noticed nobody was walking! I thought maybe there was a lightening warning or something. (Turns out everybody was attending a special ceremony.) I eventually found my way to the prayer tent next to the track and joined the small handful of people manning the 9:00 to 10:00 shift. After a short while of introductions and acquaintance pleasantries, a Bagpipe marching procession passed by the tent followed by the Relay for Life participants. We all stood by, watching the people pass by, ready to pounce on anybody that might wish to wander into the prayer tent. (This has no reflection on anybody there, but “I” kinda felt like a used car salesman on Saturday afternoon.) Fortunately for me, nobody was scheduled to man the tent between 10PM Friday night and 9AM Saturday.

As the last person in the procession passed by the tent, I grabbed my bottle of water and stepped in behind the crowd. I started to walk. As the crowd stretched out over the 1/4mile track I began to get swept up into the process of walking. Silently I began to pray and I was content just to walk. It felt good, just to support those people in unity and solidarity, people that were there for a reason. Maybe it was because they were personally connected to the disease through their own affliction, or the affliction of a loved one or friend. They belonged there. I didn’t. But I wanted to belong. I could at least support them in their cause. After a lap or two I settled into my pace.

After a while I noticed that my pace began to match a couple of middle aged women that were walking alongside of me, so after a moment or two I said hello. “How you doing on this fine night for ducks?” After a few short exchanges related to the weather and the rain, I asked, “How long are you walking for?” again more pleasant banter, and the details of this years and past year’s commitments (All the while keeping pace with the walking.) Eventually I asked, “Are you walking for anyone in particular?” By this time I probably had walked in sync with them for at least a lap or more. When asked why I was walking I had very little to offer except that I was responding to an offer by my Pastor to come out pray with and for the people walking in this Relay For Life. I just wanted to support the people that were making this effort with a little company, conversation and prayer. I wanted to walk with them.

Inevitably every person I spent time with that evening had a story they wanted to share. I walked, I listened, and in the silent moments, I prayed silently. ONCE AGAIN, WHAT A FOOL I WAS. To think I was going there to bless them! In their own unique way, every one of them showed the character and strength of the army of God. The first lady I walked with was walking for her 27 year old daughter who had been struggling with cancer for several years. Her daughter is doing very well right now, and as it turns out,,, she is joining Cornerstone Church on their Mission trip to Hattie this summer. Small World.

Over the course of Friday night and Saturday I walked with several of the cancer survivors. (wearing a Survivors tee shirt.) People that were walking for themselves, and for their friends, the people they met along the process of their treatments that were either still in the trenches of the fight and those they knew that didn’t make it. One remarkable 75 year old lady from Athol that was grateful for chance to walk this year. It was her first time participating in the opening Survivors ceremony,,, after surviving her third cancer struggle over the last 15 years, the last of which was just last year. Time and time again walkers were happy to share their time, their stories and their faith with me. She challenged me to come out and watch her walk the survivors walk next year. She challenged me to much more than that.

At one point I joined up with an elderly gentlemen that was walking with a pronounced and obviously painful limp as he was clearly struggling to take every step. I reached out to help him along the way and opened my introduction with. “It looks like the miles are beginning to take their toll on you.” He looked at me and replied. “I Just started! I’m walking for my son that passed away from cancer 7 years ago. He was 37 years old. My wife and I used to walk every year for the last 7 years. She passed away last year and I promised her I’d walk for our son this year. It’s gona hurt for a week or so, but I figure I have at least 4 laps in me.” I don’t think it ever occurred to him that he wasn’t going to do it. After our first lap together he dismissed himself and headed for a bench on the side of the track. Over the next hour or so I’d see him along the way or taking a break on the bench at each completion of another lap.

Just a few tents down from the prayer tent there was a tent labeled, “Fueled by Faith”. On Friday night when I was looking for the Prayer tent, I thought their tent might be the one I was looking for. On Friday night I walked a few laps with a man about my age wearing a Fueled by Faith tee shirt. He told me that he had been doing this since the first Relay for Life 20 years ago. His extended family does this event as an annual family re-union. They rent a large canvas tent and brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews all get together to raise money and walk for the cause. 20 years ago their aunt (long since passed away) was diagnosed with cancer so the family did the only thing they knew they could do for her; They walked. Since then several other members of the family has struggled through their own battles of the disease. Some won, some not. I caught up with him again on Saturday. The last time I saw him he was on mile eleven of his intended fifteen.

Just before the rain began to soak us down on Friday night I walked with a lady that brought her smart phone along to walk and shop. She was surfing the net and playing games as she walked her miles. (A definite 30 something.) In an effort to raise as much money as she could, she committed to her donors that she would walk for a dollar a mile and that she was going to walk as much as she could over the entire 24 hours. She was walking alone for her 59 year old cousin, just up the street at Heywood Hospital; coping with very aggressive chemo treatments attempting to halt the progression of stage-4 cancer. The chemo was working well to attack the cancer, but the doctors were going to have to back off on the treatments because the intensive level of chemo was killing him. She was walking for the long-hall having started at the opening ceremony and intending to walk as many miles a she could possibly take through to the closing bell. At one point she mentioned she was hoping to walk 18 miles.

I walked with several men (each walking alone.) in their late seventies who had lost their wives to cancer. One lost his wife last fall and the other just two months ago. Again, both of these men walked with their wives in the Relay of Life throughout the years. This was their first year walking alone. It seems a common theme for the elderly men who I met that were walking. Walking through life Alone. The man that had lost his wife last fall had come down from Canada a lifetime ago to work in the furniture boom of Gardner Mass. They adopted two sons and made their home in town. Now, with both sons living far away, and all his extended family in Canada, he spends a lot of time alone. The one that had just lost his wife, talked about being alone a lot. For 51 years he always had his wife to talk to, and goes to her grave every day to continue the conversation. He was still really busy processing all the paperwork and trying to adjust his finances to just one Social Security check. His wife’s passing from brain cancer was difficult for both of them, and although he had a good relationship with his neighbors, he seemed grateful to just have someone to walk and talk to for a while. I intentionally stayed with him for 4 laps but by the end of the 4’th lap I was feeling really sore. (I’d been walking for three hours without a break.) I have no idea how many times I walked the loop. Both men came to this event to this event alone, they walked alone, and all they really wanted was not to be alone.

One couple I walked with on Friday night, Rick and Joy, two friends walking in the rain in memory of Risk’s wife. Rick had recently lost his wife to cancer within the last six months. If I had to guess, Rick was very close to my age. His wife was diagnosed with a very aggressive cancer that took her life in just 4 months time. At one point when his wife was first diagnosed they discussed walking at the Relay for Life together, but they had no idea she would pass so fast. I made the mistake of expressing sympathy that his wife could not be there to share this effort with them, without hesitation Rick corrected me that his wife was absolutely there with them sharing every moment of this experience. Rick shared with me a lot about how he processed through his wife’s passing, and his emotional struggles since her passing. When I handed Joy and Rick the copy of, “It is well with my Soul” I took a moment to share Horatio Spafford’s story about writing this Hymn.. He glanced through the first stanza of the song and looked at me and said, I think Sweet Adeline used to sing this song, she loved to sing and play piano.

I never did hand out all ten copies of Horatio Spaford’s Hymn, but I believe the ones I did hand out are in the hands that God wanted them in.

I guess in the strict definition of Pentecostal prayer, I failed the traditional model.

I gave up my agenda and got into theirs.