A Week in December
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by Peter Ellsworth
One week in December, while many Shalem staff members were at the Winter Retreat, a loyal few remained behind at the office. At a staff meeting, when all were back together again, Peter shared some thoughts about "the week that was," and we in turn share them with you.The past week was a week of many struggles for the few Shalem staffers who remained in the office. One less creature comfort was left with each passing day. The men's room, the proximity and convenience of which I had never really thought much about, lost one fixture after another until it was at last rendered virtually useless. I sought refuge in the executive washroom adjoining Tilden Edward's office until this, too, was taken away. The women of Shalem experienced a similar fate as the plumbers commandeered their bathroom, also. Having never ventured inside this room, I speculated endlessly about its size as seemingly dozens of workers squeezed themselves in with an overwhelming array of tools and machinery. They had a large sign taped to the door with the words "Keep Out" with an exclamation point, just in case we lost our minds and decided to madly rush the bathroom. Undaunted by the deafening roar of drills and hammers and the lack of facilities and soon faculties, we Shalem loyalists remained.
The heating system was the next to go. I had begun jogging in place while coding checks to avoid frequent trips to the Cathedral men's room, so heat wasn't all that important at first. As time passed, though, and the winter wind rustled through the Saran Wrap across my office window, I began to feel a bit frigid. I huddled in front of my computer screen hoping to get some warmth from the radiation being emitted. I also began to miss Lin Ludy's hugs with a passion.
The local government soon joined in the conspiracy to force us to acquire a new respect for water bordering on worship. A reservoir technician dropped some crumbs from a sandwich he had been eating for lunch into a nearby filtration unit contaminating the city's water supply and making our lives at Shalem just a bit more challenging. I personally had ceased intake of all liquids as soon as the men's room was dismantled, so I suffered very little. Feeling sorry for my coworkers, though, I brought in a case of pure spring water from West Virginia. In an emergency staff meeting convened by Tilden on the spot, he suggested that we begin selling the water out on the street corner to desperate citizens at a sizable mark-up. He explained that we would make enough money to purchase the Cathedral itself as Shalem's new home.
As the week wore on, I began to feel the pain resulting from the most devastating disaster to strike the office during this time: the M&M's and Hershey's Kisses were gone and the morning pastry I had become so fond of had suddenly stopped. Patricia Clark's supply closet was locked, and Norma Locher and Rose Mary Dougherty were miles away. I came dangerously close to experiencing dessert-loss trauma until Sheila Carruth threw some yogurt-covered nuts my way, although it just wasn't the same as the chocolates and pastry.
By week's end, as we approached delirium, our spirits were actually starting to improve when Diane Wegener came to Sheila and me about rehearsing a class presentation. We were dehydrated and freezing and hadn't seen a restroom or chocolate eclair in days, so we acquiesced. I really was hoping for a discussion of some happy art form such as the dogs playing poker series. But instead Diane's discussion was on art and suffering, and as exceptional as it was, as she spoke I imagined an oil on canvas of a Madonna figure who looked like Sheila huddled under layers of sweaters, shivering at her computer with me in the background, plundering Patricia's office in search of M&M's.
In all seriousness, though, I can't honestly say that I personally experienced much suffering this past week. However, the week's events did create a renewed sense of awareness for me of others who suffer more than mere inconvenience from inadequate nutrition, lack of heat and shelter, or who simply don't have access to a safe water supply. Thus I would like to offer the following intercessory prayers (from stories covered in last week's Washington Post):
- For the estimated seven to ten thousand orphaned children in Angola who are facing starvation.
- For the homeless individuals and families who suffer from the winter's cold and the homeless man who died in Alexandria from hypothermia.
- For the 1.3 billion people who do not have access to safe drinking water.
- For the 1.7 billion people without adequate sanitation facilities.
- For the millions of babies who die each year from water-related disease.
Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.
© 2008 The Shalem Institute.