The Stories Behind the Numbers

A few weeks ago Jan Brown asked me how many people pass by the prayer station each week.  I had no idea.  A bunch.  She suggested I might check with the dining hall and ask them.  So this past Thursday, I went to the counter at Regatta's toward the end of the prayer station time and asked the man who was swiping dining cards if he could tell me approximately how many students eat lunch there on a Thursday.  "1300-1900," he said instantly.  He told me that Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays were the biggest days for lunch and that there were often theme meals on Thursday which boosted attendance. I said, "So I could reasonably say that there are about 1500 each week."  He looked down at the computer in front of him and said, "Right now we're at 1510."  He said they might get a couple more hundred before they closed to get ready for the evening theme meal.  When checking in with highs and lows at ECM that night, several students reported their high was the Valentine's-themed dinner which included steak wrapped with bacon, endless crab legs, and a chocolate fountain.

About 1500 people pass by the prayer station each week.  Wow.  You see, I'm not much of a numbers person.  One of the first questions my mother always asked when I came home from an event was, "How many people were there?"  If it was more than 10, I couldn't answer.  "I don't know," I would say.  My mother would demand, "Well guess.  More than 50?" Most of the time I was stumped.  I could tell her about the people I talked to and what went on at the event and whether I had a good time, but when I started to try to count up the people, I would get confused.  No matter how many times this happened, I couldn't remember to do a head count while I was at the event.  Even when I did, I would start counting and get to about 20 before losing track and having to start over.  There's a good reason why I don't work at a bank! 

What does interest me about numbers is not the numbers themselves but the stories the numbers tell. 

So, approximately 1500 students pass by the Prayer Station on a Thursday during lunch.  I probably make eye/smile contact with at least 50-100 of them, and I would guess that many more notice me and the sign.  (When I meet students they frequently say, "I've seen you on campus but I haven't come to talk with you yet.)  Certainly many walk by completely absorbed in thoughts or conversations and don't seem to see me or the sign, much less make contact.  A few are on their phones but I've been surprised that it hasn't been more.  Probably 20-30 students/staff/faculty have a more meaningful contact with the station or me on a given day.  Meaningful contact would include a short conversation, a hug, a prayer, a shared lunch or hot chocolate.  About 6-8 people per week have an even deeper encounter where they share something personal and vulnerable, where the discussion goes on longer than a quick check-in, where we make a strong connection through prayer or conversation. 

On Thursday a friend from the SpiritWorks community surprised me by stopping by and bringing hot chocolate.  I was bundled up in three layers of clothes, two pairs of socks, coat, scarf, prayer shawl and gloves, trying to endure the blasts of cold air that swooped in each time the doors opened to the Plaza.  It was the day after Ash Wednesday.  I was so happy for that hot drink that I completely forgot that one of my Lenten disciplines was giving up chocolate.  I downed half of it before I remembered.  My young friend and I shared a prayer and conversation, and my heart warmed from the contact just as my body warmed from sipping the hot drink.  Such a treat! 

On Thursday one of the students I had met from Thrive also stopped by.  She is becoming a regular, one with whom I have a deeper connection.  This time she asked me how she could pray for me.  So I told her I was seeking clarity and asked her to pray that those who need the prayer station would find it.  She said a lovely prayer before heading off to meet someone for lunch.  One of the ECM students came by to tell me he had attended an Ash Wednesday service for the first time in a long while, and another member of ECM checked in and talked about upcoming tests. 

On Wednesday I had received an email from one of the new students to ECM this semester asking if she could still help out with the food pantry.  She met me at the prayer station, helped me carry the sign to my car, and spent the next two hours helping St. Stephen's with the Hidenwood Elementary Food Pantry, a collaboration with Hidenwood Presbyterian Church and the Food Bank.  We got to know each other better and felt blessed to be able to give food to people who needed it.  But you know, I forgot to ask how many people we fed or how many volunteers we had.  More than 10 on both counts, but I lost track after that.

Our world is a world where numbers matter.  You have to have the numbers on your side to win the elections.  You have to have sufficient numbers to get the grants or loans.  In the nonprofit world, you have to be able to prove how many you've served if you want to get paid to keep on serving.  That's why people sign in at SpiritWorks.  I get it.  The people investing need to know that they're making a wise investment.  As a collector of stories, though, I can't help wondering what it is we're counting.  People who came in the door or received a service.  Bodies that showed up.  We can spin the numbers in many ways, but what do they really mean?  How do we measure how many had their lives changed or had a meaningful experience?  How do we measure the plants that grow from seeds scattered widely? 

For those who have gotten to know me and the prayer station, the ministry has become a touchstone - a way for them to check in, make a connection, be reminded of God and prayer as they make their way from class to lunch.  What I wonder is whether it has also become a touchstone for many of those 1500 passing by even if they don't stop.  Maybe they see it and it reminds them that someone from the church is praying for them.  Maybe they see it and it makes them think.  Maybe they see it and say a prayer themselves.  I have no way to count how many have received something from the prayer station.  But when my mom asks, I can tell her that it's more than 10.