Humans of CNU

Photo by Chris Shea, Humans of CNU

Today, right as I got to the prayer station, a student came up and asked if he could sit down.  He wondered if I was familiar with Humans of New York and said that he was doing Humans of CNU and that he'd like to take a picture of me and talk to me.  I said sure.  He asked me about the prayer station and why I was doing it.  He asked me what I was passionate about and what my hobbies were.  We had a lovely conversation, and he permitted me to say a prayer before he took my picture and went on his way.  I was honored to meet him and to be the subject of one of his posts.  You can see what he posted here. 

The interview was the beginning of an afternoon of conversations and prayer requests - it might have been the most I've had in one day.  My extra chair was filled most of the time, and people would come up for prayers even while I was conversing with someone else.  One student sat and ate his lunch with me and talked about the worship ministry he helps lead on Wednesday nights.  We mused on how worshiping in a place week after week for years soaks it in prayer.  It can become almost tangible - like a monastic community.  The place where they do their Wednesday night worship is right where I sit for the prayer station.  Pretty cool how all these different ministry groups overlap.
 

 Another treat of the day was getting to watch a group of male students sing "My Girl" to a giggling, blushing female student and then present her with roses and a t-shirt.  I asked someone what was going on and learned that a fraternity will go with a member who wants to ask someone to go with him to a formal.  They all sing to her a way of asking her to go.  I had seen a similar ritual on other occasions but hadn't known what it meant.  It didn't seem formal enough to be a marriage proposal, but it also didn't seem random.  The singers today did a particularly good job. 

While I was sitting, one of the CNU employees who drives the golf carts/Gators to pick up trash, drove up behind me and walked over to hand me a sprig of bush with a perfect white blossom at the end.  I buried my nose in it and inhaled deeply - can't mistake that fragrance. 
"Do you know what it is?" she asked. 
"I do!" I said.  "It's a gardenia." 
I held it out to my lunch companion and he smelled it as well.  I thanked her, and she hopped back onto her vehicle and drove away.  I have no idea where she found a gardenia on Nov. 5, but I stuck it in my cup holder, and its scent wafted over the prayer station for the rest of the afternoon.

It was labyrinth day again, and I had feared we would be rained out.  A terrible accident with a fatality had blocked I-64 this morning, so it took me over a hour to get down to Newport News.  When I arrived, it was pouring rain.  By the time I set up the prayer station, the rain was mostly over, but I had to wait to see if the Plaza would dry enough to put the labyrinth down.  It did.  More people came to walk it, a couple of whom brought headphones and listened to music while they walked.  What a great idea. 

The young man who had asked me to pray for the people who had stolen his bicycle rode by and told me that a friend had decided to give him his bicycle, so he was back on wheels.  He thanked me for the prayers.  These students blow me away. 

I got to have a nice long chat with a Canterbury student about writing and other fun things and another Canterbury student also came by for a bit.  Today was a day of rich conversations about future plans and prayer and if it's really God's plan when bad things happen to us and how to be present to those whose loved ones have died.  I also got to join United Campus Ministry and the new Lutheran Ministry group for a short evening service in the chapel before meeting with the Episcopal Campus Ministry students.  At the ECM meeting we watched part of Bishop Curry's sermon from his installation and talked about Moses and Prince of Egypt.  It was a most excellent day.

Whenever I'm asked to measure this ministry, I have trouble quantifying it.  Thanks to you, my readers, for being witnesses to the stories that are at the heart of it.