Walk in the Woods
Vol III: #67 Mr Nisly
He’s always there, every Sunday morning, at the top of the hill where the road meets the parking lot, laughing and waving and directing cars to open spaces. He’s there in the summer when the sun blisters the asphalt and in winter when the rain is relentless. And he’s dresses for the occasion, a wide straw hat in the hot months and rubber boots to endure the storms. And of all the people at Bethel, I take my encouragement from him.
He’s always there, every Sunday morning, at the top of the hill where the road meets the parking lot, laughing and waving and directing cars to open spaces. He’s there in the summer when the sun blisters the asphalt and in winter when the rain is relentless. And he’s dresses for the occasion, a wide straw hat in the hot months and rubber boots to endure the storms. And of all the people at Bethel, I take my encouragement from him.
Mr Nisly is aging and small in stature, barely over five feet tall. His beard is well trimmed into the style belying his Mennonite heritage, and I love the snaggle-tooth in his smile. And I assume most people barely notice him as they hurry from their cars to the church. Why would they? Still, it’s a shame they don’t know his story the way I do.
Sam Nisly is a former Mennonite from Kansas. He married his wife Brenda and together they were missionaries to Central America. They returned to Kansas to raise their seven children according to their faith. Eventually they left the only community(and friends) they had and moved to northern California. And if you know anything about closed communities like Mennonites, leaving is like dying. For Sam and Brenda it meant they had to start over, again.
I wouldn’t know any of this without knowing his youngest son. Nathan told me all about Kansas and being Mennonite. And I’m well aware of how Mr Nisly failed as a father though my admiration remains undiminished. All the more, I’m impressed by Mr Nisly’s energy and enthusiasm. His failures and shortcomings don’t appear to weigh him down. There’s genuine calm in voice when he chooses to speak, the kind of stillness present in a man who knows his God and trusts his God.
When I think of a servant, what Jesus called “the greatest among you,” I picture Mr Nisly directing people in the Bethel parking lot, guiding them to an open spot before they run inside- before the glory runs out. I know I’m not Sam Nisly but I do admire him. He figured something out and I believe I will figure it out too. I’m still gonna write books and live my life, but I’m ready to let go of being important and appreciated. It’s simple. Do my job and love my people, no matter what.