I took my son to VBS at a friend’s church because she plans on taking him the last two days. The church was located across the county – which is not a very long drive, but it would have been silly for me to go back home. I carried my computer, papers and some reading so that I could mark off some things from my writing to-do list and get some work done on my latest book.
Hanging out at VBS in an unfamiliar church can keep things interesting under normal circumstances, but these were far from normal. It all started with an innocent comment and snowballed from there.
“Is there a room where I can hide and work?” I asked the lady at the registration once I got all the paperwork filled out.
“Do you need quiet?” She eyed my bag. I expect people to eye my bag. It is a big bag so that it can hold all of my tool and toys. It balances perfectly with my mom purse which I always have balancing on the other arm.
I work from home, so what is quiet to most people is not necessarily quiet for me. I have developed the ability to block out the “white noise” of random singing, television, and brotherly banter (even when it all happens at once). I thought I knew the right answer to her question. For future reference, I know the correct answer to this question in this location. “Nah – I home school three boys. This is quiet.”
She pointed to the tables behind me. “Well, the best place is at the tables over there.”
It seemed innocent enough – just several empty tables in the large room with the registration table. Believe me when I say it was FAR from innocent.
Meal time started and several folks that I knew from back in high school and some parents from scouts sat down at the table I had chosen. Two of the guys immediately hit it off because they both bale hay. Did you know that you can discuss baling hay for two hours straight? I do now.
I sat there listening to them through the roar of the kids in the rooms and at the craft tables (not so innocently located next to the empty tables where I was directed to work). I was in awe of their enthusiasm for something that I take for granted.
The scenes unfolding around me provided me with some ideas and direction. I managed to get some work done. I managed to engage with some people that I have not seen in years other than to wave and go on. I managed to realize that passion – even for hay – ignites the heart in ways you would never expect.
Sometimes, if we take a moment to look around and experience the moment, we can learn lot – about others and their passions, but also about ourselves.