4/9/08:

Bonnie McVey

When I first received the request from Francis to participate in this Common Prayer, my initial reaction was to decline.  I didn’t think that I had much to add to his theme of sacramental moments.  But I need to thank Francis, for it is through preparing this reflection that I have come to see how many events, happenings and interactions, both past and present, have given me a peek at the grace of God.
As I thought about this assignment, I looked first to interactions within my family and thought of many moments where the touch of God was evident.

•    My nephew asking sincerely if his Grandpa, an avid Packer fan and a recent arrival to heaven, would be able to see the Super Bowl that was being played inside the Superdome.  

•    Sharing a sunrise with my brother as we set-up Dad’s booyah kettle for the first time without Dad.

•    Watching my mom patiently teach her great grandson how to plant flowers as she had taught me so many years before.

I have chosen, however, to share moments that arose from unplanned interactions with people whom I have met but once and will likely never meet again.  For several summers now, I have taken a trip out west on my Harley to take in the wondrous beauty of the mountains and plains.  

August in Wyoming is always hot, but one year the heat was particularly unbearable.  Places to stop, rest and recover from the heat are far apart in eastern Wyoming and the sign for an upcoming rest area was a welcome sight.  Sturgis was not far, so there were many other bikers taking this opportunity for a break.  And all were as happily surprised as I was.  Expecting a rest stop with lukewarm drinking water, we instead found tents for shade with chairs beneath, numerous coolers packed with ice and bottled water, cold lemonade, and sweet desserts.  Volunteers from a local church group decided to take care of those just passing through.  They greeted and welcomed each of us, not caring whether we rode a Harley, Buell or Honda or how much road grime or sweat covered our faces and clothes.  They asked if we were feeling ok, offered a seat under the tents, provided refreshments, directions and conversation.  The women who had made the sweet treats were clearly not bikers but would take nothing and continued to offer more.  I shared my adventure with them.  Those tending the coolers insisted that bikers take bottled water with them, and I gratefully accepted. All those involved in providing this oasis were giving of themselves and I will never forget them or their kindnesses.  One individual would be impossible to forget.  Within minutes of arriving, I was suddenly being bear hugged by a burly bearded man with a pony tail who had grown up in the Green Bay area but hadn’t been back for years.  He was a leader of the group that had provided refuge from the heat and I thanked him.  But all he wanted to talk about was “home.”  We talked about the Packers, about fishing, about snow, about the Dells and Door County.  I was able to provide a glimpse of his childhood home.  He provided me a place to rest and rejuvenate.  Knowing this was but a chance meeting, good byes were said, another bear hug shared.  

In those moments, at a rest area in Wyoming, I experienced the grace of God.