From The Front Desk

I look both ways as I walk past the newest run over crosswalk sign in the middle of the street. Devon and Bosworth. I had never memorized an intersection so well as I know this one now. Usually, I am grateful to see one of our large wooden doors cracked a bit open so that I do not have to struggle with my keys and the sticky lock. A cracked open door also means people. And people inside the center means Jesus is inside the center.

Currently, on a Tuesday at 10 am, the people are men and women who come for breakfast and showers during Community Mornings. I usually catch some of them as they grab one last bite to go and say goodbye. I set my bags down and begin to sort through all the mail, documents, and miscellaneous items that get placed on my desk.

The front desk. In my role as the Front Desk Keeper (aka the Administrative Assistant & Communications Coordinator), I do not get to spend much time with those we serve. I have the privilege of sometimes being the first to say hello when people come in and the last to say goodbye when they leave. Still, I do not get to experience the pain, growth, and healing of our neighbors firsthand the same way the rest of the staff does. This is not an “out in the field” type of role.

After being here for almost 3 years, however, I know that this does not make my position at the center any more passive. There is no shortage of stories to tell and work to be done. I witness much. I feel plenty. I am challenged often. I testify of God’s movement.

Even there from the front desk, I cannot ignore the not so quiet whispers to, “Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.” (Romans 12:12) I hear this in the squeals of laughter from children who just 2 years ago traveled thousands of dangerous miles to an unknown country with their frightened families.

I hear this in the loud banging on the door from a homeless man who spent the 15 degree night sleeping in a tent outside and now leaves our doorstep with gratitude and a bag full of bagels.

I hear this in the blaring sirens of the ambulance that pierce my ears every hour reminding me that this city neighborhood is far too familiar with illness and pain.

I hear the whispers in the blend of bare tears and bright cackles of my colleagues who deeply long for personal healing as they continually cling to truth they know well.

Work here is not peaceful and quiet. It is not cushy and carefree. It is real and raw and resonant.

Even here from the front desk, I cannot ignore Jesus working. He never clocks out, and He speaks to all who sit in this center long enough, no matter where they are in the building.

– Shayla Sotelo Manke (Executive Administrative Assistant & Communications Coordinator)