Rhythm of Life

Note: This is my reflection for the Center for Reconciliation. I hope you enjoy! - Amey

Tap. Tap. Tap. My outstretched hand gently raps upon the maple dining table in shared anticipation by all seated in the round. For a moment silence echoes a reminder of the gift that is to come, the beat of our hearts relinquished to the steady sound of fingertips suspended in midair. Lauren* is hungry and rocks her body to and fro in time with my hand, her fiery eyes fixed trance-like upon the heavens. With a heavy sigh her eyes meet mine with an intensity that, under other circumstances, would be riddled with austerity. But the eyes of my heart perceive this look to be one of compassion and love. Eyes again focused away but with expert quickness, Lauren grips my hand and instinctively takes over the beat. In a rich, gravelly contralto, Lauren slowly makes out the first few words of the familiar song. Kum-Bah-Yah! Out of tune, the others at the table eagerly join in on My Lord! Kum-bah-yah! Internally I shed a tear of joy, knowing that while it is perhaps polite to ask, overwhelming evidence indicates that God has not just ‘come by here,’ but permanently resides in this place.

This scenario takes place nightly before dinner at Corner House, my home in L’Arche Daybreak. Daybreak is but one part of an international federation of communities dedicated to living and working alongside people with profound disabilities. For my placement, I and other house assistants participate in and share life together with the core members of our community. Those here with disabilities are indeed at the ‘core’ of life, not because they are less independent, but because their simple gifts of love and grace prophetically speak to the world about the true essence, the very core, of life in Christ. L’Arche seeks to understand itself as part of the body of Christ by creating intimate and authentic community with those whom the world easily ignores. With faith and commitment, L’Arche creates home; I am eternally grateful to be part of this family.

The scenario above features Lauren, a brilliant woman who loves to sing, play, and listen to music. Lauren does not communicate verbally, but is able to form some words and utilize hand signals to convey her desires. She is dependent upon assistants to help her in most aspects of life but displays amazing alertness and vibrancy.

Like most of us, Lauren requires a good deal of time to establish a bond of trust before she will allow a person into her space. Upon our first greeting, she was agitated and disinterested. Our second greeting left me with scratches. After that, I made sure to give her space, but slowly began to form a bond with her through music. Lauren loves to hold your hands while you clap or keep time against the arm of her wheelchair. Where words aren’t always adequate, melodies seem to fill the spaces between.

One day, as I sat down to fiddle around at the piano, another assistant asked Lauren if she wanted to play with me. She rolled her wheelchair closer and gently placed Lauren’s hand upon mine. This was one of the sweetest touches I have ever experienced. As I played, Lauren moved in closer and closer. I looked her in the eyes as we sang a worship melody. Without warning Lauren grabbed my arm and rested against me; in that moment, time stopped. After weeks of working, Lauren’s hug confirmed the love and trust we have begun to share.

How much easier would life be if we so fully trusted God? The ladies I work with depend on others for everything, but are so gracious and grateful in the process. When Christ calls us to follow, He does not always include a detailed map. Rather, we are to trust the leading and direction of the Spirit with faith to believe that God makes our paths straight and will provide our needs. L’Arche reminds me of my own dependency upon God to be my daily sustenance; it is the only way I can live and love abundantly. As I look forward to the sacred moments and lessons of my time here, I pray the cadence of life here is one I will not quickly forget.

Amen.