View from the Plaza Prayer Station: Walk Humbly with Your God

On Thursday I headed out into the Plaza with high hopes.  I'd received so much publicity and positive feedback about the prayer station in the past week.  It might have gone to my head just a bit.  Not to worry.  There are always new opportunities for humility.

When I got to the Plaza I noticed that I would be sharing the space with one of the campus sororities.  They were giving away pink lemonade as one of their "Pinktober" events to raise awareness and funds for breast cancer research. "My" spot was available, so I set up my sign and chairs, ate my granola bar and eagerly awaited my first visitors.  I waited.  And waited.  And waited.  It seemed like there weren't as many people in the Plaza.  No skateboard dudes.  Not as many students eating their lunch outside.  Well, mid-terms are next week, I thought.  Maybe everyone is studying. 

The longer I sat without visitors, the more I had to remind myself that my primary purpose in sitting there is to pray.  And I can do that whether individuals come up to me or not.  So I did pray, for all the students I know and the concerns that have been brought to me in past weeks, for faculty, administration and staff, for other campus ministries, for seminaries, especially General, and for any other concerns that came to my mind.  I prayed with my rosary.  I prayed noonday prayer and the noonday family devotions.  I tried to radiate a sense of peace and calm for those who might be anxious or taking tests.  I imagined a wave of love emanating from the Plaza and extending throughout the campus.  At one point I got up and went over to the "Drink Pink" booth for a cup of pink lemonade.  I made a donation in honor of my mom who is a two-time survivor and whose 70th birthday is this week. 

Posing with President Trible

I tried not to be disappointed. I also tried not to over-analyze whether my spot is in the best locationor whether I need to move.  It seemed like the women of Zeta Tau Alpha were having similar issues, though more people wanted free lemonade than prayers. I watched as they tried to figure out how to get more visitors to their booth.  They were very excited when President Trible came over and posed for a picture with them.  I heard them wondering whether a different entrance to the Student Union might have more traffic.  When one of them started to walk away, I heard another say, "Don't leave," and I smiled.  It's a little scary out there in the Plaza on your own.  Best not to do it alone!

As I sat there I remembered that I wasn't alone either.  So many people were praying for me and for the ministry.  And of course, God is there too.  At our Canterbury meetings we've been talking about where we've encountered God during the week.  I've noticed that most of us tend to share moments of happiness or answered prayers.  We tend to associate God's presence with times of joy and positive outcomes.  But is God any less present when a chaplain sits and prays for a campus by herself than when students flock up to her?  Do we only thank God when we get what we want or when it goes better than expected?  As I've reflected on this week's time at the prayer station, I've come to realize that God may have been present in a very different way, but in the midst of all my expectations, it was hard to see.

It had been an exciting but exhausting week for me at both my ministry sites.  Lots of publicity, pictures with the governor, long nights of working on an essay for a contest, and a bit of an intestinal thingy that wasn't serious but left me feeling a little weak and not able to eat much.  I was longing for rest and renewal.  And isn't that what I received as I sat in a comfortable chair on a beautiful day watching the clouds drift and praying for the well-being of others?  A gift of rest.  A gift of time just to be.  It didn't feed my ego.  But it did feed my soul.  So my prayer this week for those at CNU and any others who need it is that you will also receive the gift of some "still time," time for being, time for waiting, time for walking humbly with God.  May you be open to the gift of that time, and may it nourish and restore you.