On Monday, I sat in the classroom, looked around at the 60 or so others and committed, right then and there to get as much out of the class as I could. The truth is, the class is on something that I do every single day at my current job, so it would have been easy to shut down and coast through the week. How arrogant and prideful to think like that. I've have chosen a profession in which there will always be so much to learn and I will forever be striving to know more in order to best serve my clients. So, I settled in. And I am thankful that I did. Yeah, a lot of what we've done this week has been fairly familiar, but I am certain that I will never memorize the DSM 5, so the more time spent in it, the better.
Truth be told, I've enjoyed a majority of the people with which I've been interacting. Yeah, some of the students, especially the older ones, are clearly gawking at my tattoos and nose ring, pretty judgmentally too, but the two professors that I've been working under have been very knowledgeable, helpful, and honest. And though biases kept popping up in my mind throughout the week, I was given the opportunity to express them to a friend over dinner last night, and it was so refreshing for me. This friend in one that I've known for years, but have had limited contact with for much of that time. She was a teacher in Uganda in 2011, so our paths only crossed there for about 5 months when her school year ended. Since then, I've only seen her one time at a mutual friend's wedding, but thanks to social media, we remain ever so slightly in contact. This friend both attended and worked at the university for much of her adult life. It was both eye-opening and affirming to sit and chat with this sweet soul, confessing the struggles of the week.
I've had many of these little reminders of the need for grace in my life... many nudges of the presence of God. Hanging out with South Jersey friends, exploring this town, having time and space to myself, meeting up with my friend, and then spending tonight out in creation has renewed my weary heart. My friend told me about a hike up the mountain I'm staying on, to a gazebo overlooking the valley, the school, and the town, and the mountains.
So after class this afternoon, I went and grabbed food, brought it back to the room for later, changed, and set out to hike this mountain. Mind you, I'm grossly out of shape these days, so I knew it would be a struggle, but when I set my mind on something I'm certain I can endure, I make it happen. I ventured out into the woods, up the mountain, beginning along a gravel road. I saw various trails heading in different directions, but knew I needed to keep going straight on the slight incline. Then, I saw a path with a much steeper incline, and somehow knew it was the way up to the gazebo. So I started the climb. It was really difficult for me and my knee was crying, but it was also somehow worshipful and exciting. Of course, I stopped many times to rest, catch my breath, and laugh at the squirrels that were going insane along the sides of the trail and in the trees.
Finally, I reached a clearing and saw the rest of the way up the mountain to the gazebo. Yeah, I was sweating, out of breath, and my legs were upset with me, but it was well worth it because the view and the beauty were amazing! I was a little disappointed to see that there were 4 guys hanging out in the gazebo. I don't know why, but I kinda assumed I would have it all to myself. I creepily stood, enjoying the view and trying to decide if I should just go and sit with them. As I edged closer to them, the oldest guy said, "come on, girl. You can come sit with us. We won't bite." I laughed and accepted the invitation, not sure what to expect, but thankful to not have to sit in the itchy grass.
I found out that they work for the public, taking care of the roads all around the state of Virginia. They had found a way to drive up to the top of the mountain (which I'm glad I didn't know about, or I would have done that instead of hike!) and they were relaxing after their long day of physical labor. One of the men, in his 30's, was carving out his name or some saying into the wood of the gazebo. I was certain the the school wouldn't approve, though he clearly wasn't the first to do so. So we sat and shot the breeze for a while. We all laughed as they told stories and then they asked me about my life and what I was doing at the top of the mountain. They also talked to me about other places I should hike and caves I should explore. All the while, they were openly drinking, taking swigs of Jack from a 5th, chased with Coke, chain smoking, and cussing like sailors... and I loved it! It was so much fun to sit and have genuine conversation with people who may get ignored or judged as I've felt (on a much smaller scale) this week. I have a feeling that these men are under recognized and under appreciated for the work they do around this state. After maybe 45 minutes or so, they offered me a ride to my car (which I declined because I wanted to enjoy the hike back down) and then headed out in their truck and went on their jolly way.
As I made my way down the mountain, I thought about my interactions with those guys. They invited me, a stranger, into their little circle so I had a place to rest comfortably. They asked me questions about myself and shared with me about their lives and work. They offered wisdom about this area of Virginia and suggested other beautiful sights I would enjoy. Never once did I feel at risk or unsafe (and yes, all the moms reading this, there were other people in proximity). Never once did I feel judged for being out of breath and sweaty when I first crept up the side of the hill. They wished me well and advised me to be careful on my way back down.
I don't think this is some magical interaction, but what I do think is that these type of meetings are few and far between these days as we walk around with our heads buried in our phones, connected to everyone except those right in front of us. I also think that if more people were as welcoming and honest as those guys were, things would look a lot different. Imagine if the Church were less divided and more committed to opening it's doors and welcoming in the lost, the sick, the sinners. Imagine if people were less scared to sit and be authentic with one another. What would it be like? I didn't share the gospel with these men tonight... not in the traditional sense. I offered my thoughts and shared a few tiny pieces of me, and I hope that they met Jesus in there somehow. Maybe they know him well already... I didn't ask. Yet, it was a holy time and I'm thankful.
Here are some pics from the trek...
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