Hard Work
Last week I was asked if I wanted to help serve food for a Women’s event the following Friday and, after a bit of prompting, I said yes. I’m not sure what I was expecting but the thought did go through my mind that it couldn’t hurt my reputation 
. Having lived briefly in the same house with someone who had worked in the restaurant business I guess I should have had a better idea of what to expect. I expected to work hard but maybe not quite as hard as I ended up doing last night.
So a bit before 7 last night I rocked up to join a rather mixed crew of other guys who had agreed to help out dressed in the required black pants and white shirt. After a bit of waiting around we started pouring drinks and then putting food on plates and delivering it to tables. That bit wasn’t so bad, sure we were working at speed to get everything out there but the physical labor wasn’t too bad. It was only after the clean up started that I realised the full extent of what lay in store.
The sheer number of trips it takes to get stuff off the tables and into the kitchen for a large function is staggering, especially when you don’t know all of the little tricks you can use to carry more at a time. Then there was the food that was left over, health regulations preclude saving any of it for later, but I couldn’t help regret the sheer quantity of deliciously prepared food that went into the garbage. I have a distinct memory of spending what seemed like an hour unscrewing white plastic caps off half empty plastic water bottles, emptying the contents and putting them into plastic garbage bags for collection.
After that, with all the tables empty we started rearranging the furniture to turn the space we were using back into a church foyer, we thought we had nearly finished. It was only then that we discovered that there were 90 fairly heavy chairs that had to be lugged back up the stairs into the PCOM room. Some of the guys had left by this stage and so we set to work getting them up the stairs 3 or 4 at a time till that was done. Finally at around 11:50pm I dragged myself off to my car and drove home.
You may be wondering what the point to this story is. You see even though I was the last guy to leave I was definitely not the last person to leave. There must have been at least 10 women there when I left finishing up cycling plates through the dishwasher and doing other things. Most of them had probably been there all day setting up and getting things ready and there they were still working hard at the death as one by one the men left to get some rest. To be fair most of us working had already put in a full day at work including the guy who had been doing the dishes who had come from his factory job but I can’t help but be humbled by the level of effort and commitment displayed by the women still there.
The real eye opener was the identity of the people there at the end: Ps Jane Evans, one of the 2 senior pastors, Ps Elisa Colak and Carol Kerrigan, leader of the women’s ministry. These women hold some of the highest positions in the church and yet there they were, late at night, looking after the dishes. Having had little direct contact with these women around the church, I cannot but help be profoundly impressed by their level of dedication, commitment and humility. In every way I pray that God blesses them the way they so richly deserve.
