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Monday, April 15, 2024
A to Z 2024: M is for Microvolunteering
Tuesday, March 7, 2023
Remembrances of a Lost Friend
I graduated High School in 1983 at the age of 18. In 1987 when many of my classmates were completing their undergraduate studies I moved to Macomb, Illinois, and began attending Western Illinois University. I saw those years as a time to learn but also an opportunity to be involved in ministry. I came onto campus and became part of the leadership team of the local ragtag chapter of Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship.
Like most campuses, ours had a new student fair each year. I helped man the I-V table. I met many people that day and many signed up for more information. One of those people was an 18-year-old freshman by the name of Frank Charles Rusan the fifth. I don't remember if I met him at the table or later when I visited him in his dorm room. Frank didn't introduce himself as Frank Charles Rusan V, I just remember his middle name because it is also my middle name.
Frank started attending a Bible Study I was leading. He and I became good friends during his time at WIU. Before I met Frank I knew very few people who lived in Chicago even though I grew up in the Chicago suburbs. Frank was the first black person I really got to know. Frank and I both had a vision of breaking the color barriers of our campus's Christian ministries. In his freshman and sophomore year, I visited the campus black church with him on many occasions. The services were much longer and had so many different types of worship than I was used to. I remember singing songs like Jesus is on The Mainline (Tell Him What You Want.).
I remember one day I was in Frank's room after a bible study and I don't remember exactly what he said but the gist was "Dave, you love people, you treat them with respect. You could be black. He meant it and I took it as a compliment. It reminds me now of something that happened a few years after that during my first year as a missionary in Russia. I was in the home of my friend Vladimir. His dad who was also named Vladimir was sitting with us at a table drinking tea with family. Vladimir's dad commented something along the line that with me sitting at the table with them enjoying fellowship with them it was like he had another son. Both those comments reminded me that even though blacks and whites and Russians and Americans have a history of mistrusting each other, true Christian fellowship transcends race and nationality.
Frank graduated from Western in 1991 and we lost track of each other soon after that. From time to time over the years I would think about him and our times together and wonder what he was up to. Every few years I would google him without any success.
Yesterday, my wife, oldest daughter, and I were volunteering for Compassion International by handing out sponsorship packets at an event in Rockford, Illinois. The Event was the 2023 Soar Awards a gospel music awards show. We were about the only white people in attendance.
When you volunteer at an event like this, there is a lot of downtime between responsibilities. During those times I listened to the music emanating from the stage, and started thinking about Frank. I thought this might be the exact kind of place I could run into him. Perhaps in an act of symmetry, he would be manning one of the many ministry tables set up inside the atrium of the theatre. I decided to google Frank and see if I had success locating him this time.
This beautiful tribute page is what alerted me that Frank had died almost 5 years ago. Frank is the third (as for as I know) of friends who I met during my first year at WIU who have passed away. I wish I had reconnected with Frank before he died but I don't feel any deep regret. Reading all the tributes I realized that Frank had continued to be the same type of person he had been in college, faithful, available, teachable, and a person who radiated Christ. There are many testimonies of him caring for people, praying for them, and being genuinely concerned for others. This is the Frank I knew and loved and it brings me solace to know he continued to walk in that way for another quarter of a century before passing on to eternity with God in Heaven.
Friday, July 26, 2013
The Most Important Job at the Food Bank
After we put on the requisite hair nets, aprons and rubber gloves , our supervisor Don started handing out assignments. It became readily apparent, at least to me, that I had been given the most important job.
So when he came back, I told him that I thought he had the most important job, and he quickly agreed. You see, people like to be valued. Even if they are just volunteers, they like to be valued. After he came back I got to thinking about it more. I started on concentrating on what job was most important. Was it those two tables of cereal baggers? Three of my favorite relatives helped man those tables. Without them my scooping and Nathan's tempo would just leave 16 filled tubs and a box mostly full.
But even with those 8 bagging and weighing away, the whole operation would come to a halt with out the bag sealer. Yes just as I scooped all the cereal into bins, the four people seated sealed every bag. the person standing took the sealed bags and prepared them to be distributed to the food pantries, soup kitchens, and summer feeding programs that the food bank supplies. And let's not forget about Don, who went from station to station informing and encouraging each group of workers; perhaps he had the most important job.
Sometimes the most important jobs are the ones behind the scenes. We were able to volunteer today because a friend watched our 7 year old while we were there. We volunteered with a group of employees from Capital One. I am not sure exactly what had to conspire for them to come. But I imagine that compensation and covering of duties was involved. It seems the more you break it down, the harder it becomes to determine the most important job.
So what is the most important job? To steal from City Slickers, it is one thing. It is the one thing that you were assigned to do. The most important task in a project is the task you were given. That task is your chance to shine. You have been given that task for a reason. Do the best you can at that task and the project has a better chance at success, than if you just did it 1/2 way because you wanted to be the one to scoop cereal out of a big box.
Volunteering is an important job. Feeding the hungry is an important job. If that includes digging up a ton of cereal, then I can dig that.
If you thought this post was a departure of sorts, you were right. It was a departure from writing nothing or next to nothing for months at a time. It is also a departure from my usual homeschooly things I had been writing about until I slipped out of internet existence.
As the new title suggests, I am no longer just a home school dad. I am a home schooling dad transitioning back to the business world. My most important job, to ride that horse one more time, is to land a job. This blog will reflect on my past jobs and my current search.
Next Time: My very first job.
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