Dealing with the Unexpected at Work

Sometimes, no matter how well organized or staffed our business might be, the unexpected strikes. It can do so like a bolt of lightening. That bolt of lightening struck our business recently.

The technology that so often assists us in serving our clients and customers quickly and efficiently sometimes turns around and bites us when least expected. And, indeed, this time it sunk its teeth in pretty good. The good news was it chomped down just at the end of business on a Friday. The bad news: The following weekend - and this particular one was going to be fully "time off" - was filled with necessary efforts to get things back up and running before the Monday morning bell. Indeed, despite our efforts, recovery would spill over into the days after.

While this isn't the first technological blow to the midsection we've endured since founding our small business, it came at a particularly inopportune time, coinciding with the radical revival of the C-Virus Mess that began in March 2020, with all the challenges it brings to our business and personal lives. 

As you may remember from last week, we had begun the process of seeking advice and counsel from the Rule of St. Benedict to help us work our way through this revived Mess. So when the gods of technology piled on the other day, I happened upon some words written by Father William Doyle that pretty much consigned current difficulties to the status of "Suck it up" - or at the very least "Bear with it."

Father Willie should be familiar to anyone who's read this blog over time, so we won't give him a big build-up. What we will note is that the following words were written during his time as a World War I army chaplain serving in the front line trenches, tending to his "boys" who need spiritual aid before, during, and after battle. The bravery he exhibited was observed and recorded by many who served with him.

Take your time reading this recounting of a particularly harrowing encounter with danger and death and compare to any challenges you have, or may now be facing at work - or in your personal life.

“I was standing about 100 yards away watching a party of my men crossing the valley, when I saw the earth under their feet open and the twenty men disappear in a cloud of smoke, while a column of stones and clay was shot a couple of hundred feet into the air. A big German shell by the merest chance had landed in the middle of the party. I rushed down the slope, getting a most unmerciful whack between the shoulders, probably from a falling stone, as it did not wound me, but it was no time to think of one’s safety. I gave them all a General Absolution, scraped the clay from the faces of a couple of buried men who were not wounded, and then anointed as many of the poor lads as I could reach. Two of them had no faces to anoint and others were ten feet under the clay, but a few were living still. By this time half a dozen volunteers had run up and were digging the buried men out. War may be horrible, but it certainly brings out the best side of a man’s character; over and over again I have seen men risking their lives to help or save a comrade, and these brave fellows knew the risk they were taking, for when a German shell falls in a certain place, you clear as quickly as you can since several more are pretty certain to land close. It was a case of duty for me, but real courage for them. We dug like demons for our lad’s lives and our own, to tell the truth, for every few minutes another iron pill from a Krupp gun would come tearing down the valley, making our very hearts leap into our mouths. More than once we were well sprinkled with clay and stones, but the cup of cold water promise was well kept, and not one of the party received a scratch. We got three buried men out alive, not much the worse for their trying experience, but so thoroughly had the shell done its work that there was not a single wounded man in the rest of the party; all had gone to a better land. As I walked back I nearly shared the fate of my boys, but somehow escaped again, and pulled out two more lads who were only buried up to the waist and uninjured. Meanwhile the regiment had been ordered back to a safer position on the hill, and we were able to breathe once more.”

The men’s resting place that night consisted of some open shell holes. “To make matters worse,” writes Fr. Doyle “we were posted fifteen yards in front of two batteries of field guns, while on our right a little further off were half a dozen huge sixty-pounders; not once during the whole night did these guns cease firing.” This proximity not only contributed an ear-splitting din but added considerably to the men’s risk owing to the occasional premature bursting of the shells. In spite of these discomforts and the torrential downpour of rain, the men slept out of sheer weariness. “I could not help thinking,” says Fr. Doyle, “of Him who often had nowhere to lay His head, and it helped me to resemble Him a little.”

In the midst of the difficulties and dangers, even in the face of death, Father diligently performed his duties. And even when a respite was granted, we see how, instead of comfort to counter their weariness, Father and his men here face continued discomfort. But notice how instead of complaining or even thinking of himself, his thoughts turn to Our Lord:

“I could not help thinking,” says Fr. Doyle, “of Him who often had nowhere to lay His head, and it helped me to resemble Him a little.”

Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could turn to Jesus in such an immediate, clear, and simple manner in the midst of our own difficulties?