You know that thing where you just can’t see something that is right in front of your face?

I had a moment last week where it finally dawned on me what shape my ‘missionary calling’ takes in this current phase of life.

When I was running my irrigation business I had the joy of connecting with people in my local community and working for them. This little business placed me right in ‘the zone’ and every day I was engaging with those I probably would not have been able to connect with as a local church pastor. Some days were more significant than others and at times I worked alone while clients were at their own jobs, but I was aware of being a ‘local’ and being known both as a tradie and a pastor.

Since selling the business and focusing in on the caravan space I have missed those connections that came with the irrigation work, both with clients, suppliers and other tradies. Now I work on caravans, weighing them, installing diesel heaters (around 80% of my work) and installing WiTi security systems. The weighing is done onsite at a client’s home or nearby, but the other work is all on a paved area in the front of my house.

The people whose caravan’s I weigh tend to be ‘one offs’. Occasionally I go back to re-weigh when they change rigs, but the relationships are not ongoing. In fact I have usually forgotten them altogether in the time that passes between weighs… And the diesel heater area is a great little niche, as are the security systems, but generally speaking I work from home, unless a client really needs a job done onsite and these are also discrete interactions.

So I am no longer ‘present’ in the community as I was for the 15 years of running the previous business. I am no longer forming ongoing relationships with clients. I worked for Dawn, an elderly lady for 15 years and each time I attended she would remind me that her grandfather was a Baptist pastor in Tasmania. There was Ted, who is probably gone now, but was a fun bloke to connect with and many many others who were more than just job numbers. I enjoyed that ongoing connection and the developing relationships that were often present.

I had been feeling a little aimless up until last week when it dawned on me exactly where I am now present – in my street… I don’t know why I hadn’t joined the dots on this before, but sometimes you just can’t see what’s in front of you.

It was last week as I bantered with my neighbour while working, as I stopped to chat with a lady walking her dog who is new in the street, as I spoke with the woman across the road… actually when I began to consider the number of connections I have made simply because I am working in the street at the front of my home I started to see where I am present and available to people – in Hackney Way.

When I work on caravans I typically move into ‘task mode’ – there is a job to do and the quicker I do it, the quicker I can go surfing, hit the bike tracks or whatever. But that fresh awareness gives new shape to how I approach my work. There are often people who walk up and down the street, but who I haven’t connected with because I am focused and ‘busy’. But in the last week I have observed that when I slow down I can see them, connect and have conversations.

Janie slowed to chat last week. She is a widow who lives at the top of the street and her caravan was sitting unevenly on the towbar. I was able to go up and help her out by adjusting the tow hitch. Her shed was still full of her late husband’s tools so when the job turned out to be more complicated than I anticipated I was able to use his tools and talk for a while about the experience of loss.

Just yesterday as I was working on a caravan, a car left my neighbour’s home and reversed back up the street towards me. I wasn’t sure quite what was happening, but it looked like the occupant wanted to speak to me. He parked clumsily in the middle of the road and walked over to me.

‘Hi – I’m Dave – Nick’s mate – we met at his house one time’

‘Oh yeah – I remember’

‘Are you still the pastor of the church?’

‘Nah, but I do go to the church?’

‘Where do you meet?’

‘In the primary school,’ I said curious where this was heading.

‘Why are you asking me about this?’ I wasn’t following wherever he was heading.

‘Because I want to come’, he replied as if it should have been obvious. ‘I haven’t been since we moved into Yanchep 10 years ago, but I want to start going to church again.’ He looked a little nervous and I could see this was stretching for him

‘Ah right – no worries’, I said ‘So tell me your story’. What brings you back?

We chatted some more, and he shared a little of his journey and then he hopped in his car and took off. Maybe he will come to church on Sunday. Maybe not… People don’t always follow through on these things.

But it wasn’t lost on me that this man had been in our street many times visiting his mate – and he knew that I had been a local pastor. It had just never been relevant to him until now. But being the guy who works in the street I am visible and possibly even available.

That was last week’s revelation… So now if I am under a van or in a van I am paying attention to those who are walking or driving the street and ready to create space just for a greeting or maybe for a conversation.