I am writing to you roughly 35.000 feet over Virginia. JetBlue says hi.

I left my father’s room last night, and returned to my hotel room in Long Beach, then transferred to a different room because a newly loose door plate made me wonder if someone was thinking about robbing me, which I generally frown upon.

I woke up at 1:15am, got up at 3:30am, and made my way, exhausted, through a quiet city, an empty parking garage, a sleepy shuttle, and various other dark, meditative spaces

Today, I’m grateful.

I’m grateful for God’s grace upon my father. He seems to be healing; for a second it looked like he might not.

I’m grateful for God’s grace upon me. I was able to make a trip that in seasons past would have been far more difficult, in terms of time, and money, and understanding. I have gained some flexibility. I have learned how to work virtually. I have learned some things about travel. All of it helped

And I’m grateful for the village.

One of the more frequently used sayings in my community is the African Proverb “It takes a village to raise a child.”

I am acutely aware, in this moment, of the power of the village.

I met a lot of attentive, dedicated, compassionate people, in the hospital. And every one of them made a difference

There was Jordan, a young Asian guy who said he entered the field because his grandfather got sick during COVID, and he wanted to make a difference. He wore a hat featuring the Sanrio cartoon character “Gudetama”, an anthropomorphized egg yolk whose perpetual fatigue apparently resonates with millennial ennui. I found out on the last day I saw Jordan that his faith was a big part of his life, which made total sense, because I had watched him be the hands and feet of Jesus for a week.

There was Jazmyn, an unassuming soldier who took everything in stride with compassion, commitment, and focus. I let her know that she had the same name as Michael’s daughter, who sometimes seemed like the only one he listened to. So she should definitely use that, and walk in her authority. And whether she received anything I said, or just continued being who she already was, she definitely did.

There was Amanda, who seemed to me a bit like a wood nymph who went to med school. She seemed impossibly small and undeniably powerful. She was on top of every detail. She was on top of every task. I kept wondering if she would need back-up to lift someone or something. She never did.

There was Matt, who seemed generous and unshakeable in a way that he shouldn’t have been.

There was Dr. Liang, the Internist, who had history with my father, because he was the doctor who admitted him to the E.R., and two weeks later in the Neuro ward could speak of my Dad like he knew him when they were kids.

There was Dr. Noel, the neurosurgeon with quiet, calming, near-priestly confidence, who kept coming to give us good news that the work was done, and he saw no reason for further surgery. I have never in my life been so happy to have someone repeatedly tell me they were going to do nothing.

And those were just a few. There we surgeons and specialists, physical, speech, and occupational therapists, caseworkers, administrators, and a host of recurring, rotating, and cameo roles.

Just as you see if you watch the full credits of a movie, a host of people present, and hidden came together to make this work. In the village, everyone has a role to play.

I saw it all the more on the personal side.

It’s family and friends, in-laws and outlaws.

There are those who comfort and cajole, those who provide tough love, those who provide medical insight, those who provide financial, administrative, emotional support. Those who provide transportation, those who make things happen with research, and phone calls, and key conversations, and those who do a little of everything.

I think this is a critical thing to understand about community.

We often focus on marquee roles in organizations. Presidents and CEOs may tell you that they are the most important person in the room.

People in need might put their faith in superstar doctors, lawyers, or professionals. But every one of them have a team. And you often see how good they are by how much care they have put into assembling it.

If you are not the pastor, the worship leader, or the musician, you may sometimes question the value of your role in a faith community, but these are three functions in a body that may have hundreds, and every one of them are called, chosen, and equipped by God.

We can make the mistake of downplaying our importance, and impact, in community.

And I was tempted to do the same. I’m not a doctor. I’m only going to be here a few days. Whet do I have to offer?

And this fundamentally misunderstands the way communities and organizations work.

When an artist stands to accept an award and takes two minutes to thank a bunch of people, it often seems like lip service. It’s all the people who you will be in trouble for not mentioning. At the same time, as much as the award reflects the use of great gifts to do great work, the person literally would not be standing there without the supporting multitude.

Anyone who has ever seen a performance go wrong can tell you that without the staff, the performer can’t function. And without an audience they have no reason to. So the notion that stars are big people who deign to share their gifts with little people is arrogant, backwards, and erroneous. I don’t care who you are. Without the village, you have nothing. You do nothing. Organizationally speaking, you are nothing.

As the saying goes, if you think you are leading, but no-one is following, you’re just taking a walk.

Today, I am grateful for those who lead and follow.

I am grateful for those who help and heal.

I pray today that you lean into community instead of running from it.

I pray that wherever you find yourself in an operation, you share your gifts for someone’s benefit.

I pray that you don’t quit when you’re tired, or discouraged, or feel unappreciated, or hurt.

You may save someone’s life.

You may even save your own.

Travelling mercies.

I can’t wait to see you shine.

(Photo Credit:Pixabay)