Do Your One Thing
In October I had the privilege of seeing the new musical Come from Away in its pre-Broadway run at Ford’s Theater in Washington, D.C. This musical tells the story of the 38 commercial flights that were forced to land in the small town of Gander, Newfoundland, on 9/11 when U.S. airspace was closed. Although the passengers on those planes nearly equaled the population of Gander, they were embraced, welcomed, fed, clothed, all their needs provided for by ordinary people who leapt into action and gave whatever they had. It is a glowing, joy-filled story of the best of humanity set in one of our darkest times.
I was especially touched by the story of one woman — a real person, as are all the characters represented in Come from Away — an SPCA employee who was the only one to ask whether the 38 grounded planes, ordered to be left on the tarmac untouched, might be carrying any animals. As portrayed in the show, this woman finagles her way onto the tarmac, crawling around in the cargo compartments of planes that the government has said may contain bombs; she finds the pets (and two monkeys) left alone in their cages and cares for them, including providing medication to an epileptic cat.
This story touched me not only because I am a cat lover (and am owned by two cats, both of whom take regular medication . . .), but because this woman did what I would like to think I would do in a crisis. She found her role. Others were making sandwiches upon sandwiches upon sandwiches; others were doing crowd control and finding beds; others were holding the hands of the frightened and the grieving. As portrayed on stage, this character knows who she is and what she does. She knows her wheelhouse. She is the one who thinks of the animals, who knows how to help them, who has the passion to put herself on the line for them and doesn’t care that it may be unsafe.
She doesn’t try to do, or be, everything. She doesn’t try to do what others are doing. She does what she is uniquely called and equipped to do.
The rogue social media accounts maintained by National Park employees are another example. Those folks can’t do everything. They can’t fix all the problems. They do have information — access to the truth — and the ability to keep putting it out there. So they do that. They do their one thing.
I wonder, in these times, what God is calling me to do, and what church women are called to do. Can we identify our wheelhouse? Do we know what we can bring to the table that is uniquely us? Can we focus on that, instead of being pulled in every direction by others’ fears and plans and priorities?
I pray for the strength to know that call, to hear it, and to answer it. Because there will be something that we, as progressive Christian women, are uniquely equipped to do to heal the world. I pray that we will find it.
And for anyone who needs inspiration, Come from Away opens on Broadway this year; see comefromaway.com.
