The Work Pew

I'm getting settled in here in Elkhart. I moved into the MVS Jubilee House almost two weeks ago and I've been working a lot doing projects with my dad, projects at Jubilee and getting the bike shop set up. Its been exhausting and I'm already drawing clearer lines between work and personal space so that I can preserve calm, peace, and energy throughout my time here. The MVS unit here is coming together a little more every day and I'm really enjoying the friendships that I'm making here. We fill our time with good laughs. :)

Last week as I was rearranging the attic over the bike shop, I found a small section of one-legged pew from Prairie Street MC that had been cut off several years ago to make space for wheelchairs. I carried it down into the bike shop, thinking it would be a great chair to put into Jubilee. When Simon Gingrich (Prairie Street MC's pushing-90 workhorse) gave a suspecting sideways look at it and said it was one of his challenges to cut a few years ago because the wood curves while it's thickness changes.

Later that week I found a suitable piece of wood, sawed it up and nailed it onto the legless side of the pew. Then I sawed it again so that the pew would sit straight. Smiling to myself, I took a good look at my work. This little disabled pew now had enough legs, it supported my weight. The torn cushion and cover were as comfortable as they had ever been, happy to be able to serve a purpose again.

Sitting on the pew, I was overcome by an urge to sing a hymn, to rejoice for all that God provides. My upbeat heart sung all day, now with a place to sit and examine old dysfunctional bikes, take them apart, wipe of decades of grime, patch their tubes, true the wheels, tighten the brakes, scrape off rust, and grease up their mechanical pieces. Yesterday five other people came to work at the bike shop doing all of the above. One old neighbor man, Uncle Ed, sat on the pew and made wheels, fenders, and handlebars shine brighter than any of us would have believed possible.

With this work, some lines have been blurred rather than better defined. One has been the line between work and worship. For me, it has become an act of worship to rehabilitate an old pew and a few old bikes as well as teach some bike repair. New familiarity with each other, the feeling of being useful, the dissipation of fear of the unknown, the swelling joy from riding a pretty bike, the empowered glint in the eye of a new bike mechanic who understands her machine, all of it gave me a glimpse of the Kingdom. Its a beautiful sight to watch from a seat in the crutched work pew.