Say What You Want...

...I think they'll be quite happy together.

Inspiration

I woke up at 9:30 this morning for the second straight day. Yesterday I was disturbed by the extremely loud bass coming from the room above me. This morning's disturbance was quieter and more welcome.
Someone knocked on my door. I thought perhaps it was my derelict roomate, whom I've neither seen nor heard since Friday morning. No luck. Instead it was someone from Facilities Management, responding to a call I had put in the night before about water backing up in my sink.
I didn't expect anyone to come on a Sunday, so I wasa little rattled as I answered the door. But the man was friendly and got right to work, and since it became apparent it would take a few minutes to fix my sink I decided to make friendly conversavtion. I asked a harmless question. "Do they always make you guys work on Sundays?"
He turned around and looked genuinely concerned. "Once every 20 weeks, and it just kills me," he said. As it turns out, this guy (I later read his name tag; his name is Frank) is extremely dedicated to his church, leading the youth and preaching on Sunday nights. He went on to explain how difficult it is for him to work on weekends after working full time for Wake, taking care of his family and taking classes full time at Winston Salem State. He's a junior, political science major. He wants to go to Divinity school and get licenses in counseling. He switched majors because recently his church split in two and he decided that he wanted to understand political processes so he could help his church heal. He spoke very eloquently about the division, how he felt like he had lost a huge part of his family, how his new church had only been around for ten weeks and he didn't want to have to work on Sundays when things were still so unsettled.
So I asked another harmless question; I asked which church he went to. "I'm from Mount Airy," he said. "Bannertown Baptist." This set off a discussion about similarities, and when he asked who I was I told him my father's name. "Oh yeah," he responded, "Your dad bought a cleaning company from my younger brother. You might know my uncle, too, his name is David Beal."
Frank used to work for an electric company in Winston and took a $40,000 pay cut to work at Wake and go back to school. He said at the time he didn't know why he was doing this but now things make more sense. I don't know why Bannertown Baptist split and I have no reason to believe that Frank and I would agree on the issue and attend the same congregation. But the way he spoke about wanting healing and reconciliation really moved me. His willingness to be a full-time student and full-time maintenance worker while helping establish a new church and raising a family is phenomenol. He talked about how badly he wanted to maintain his 4.0 GPA. It must be a lot of work. And he does it because he wants to get into counseling. He wants to help people heal.
I wish I had Frank's work ethic, his unwillingness to demonize the opposition, his humility, his earnestness. I think it's inspirational, regardless of whether I agree with his politics or theology. I've got a tough week ahead of me: two papers, one scholoarship appreciation letter, seven nights of big time rehearsal for Big Concert, and hopefully at least one more visit to the hospital. But my week doesn't hold a candle to Frank's everyday life; it doesn't even come close. So maybe I was given a backed-up sink for a reason. Maybe this was the inspiration I needed.

Blank

I've been meaning to post something for a while, but inspiration is hard to come by these days. I've been kicking around some ideas, mainly dealing with testing the idea of momentum in basketball and stuff for Big Concert, but my ideas are fairly disjointed right now and writing them down would serve only to confuse. The next two weeks promise to be the busiest in a long, long time, and as soon as that ends I begin exam season. Suffice it to say that posts will likely be few and far between for awhile, but in about a month things will settle down and I'll be back. Oh yeah, I'll be back.