The Big Nudge
One of my favorite sounds in the summer is this one bird that sings in metallic tones at dusk. I don’t know what it is about the tone that captures my attention, but I hear it, and it causes me to pause, embrace the quiet of the evening, and lean in in hopes of hearing the melody again.
I guess you could say I resonate with the sound. There is a quality to it that connects with me on a deeper level. My whole body relaxes, smiles, and thoughts of times camping come to mind. I can smell the campfire, and feel the anticipation of a long-awaited shower at the camp bathroom before snuggling in my sleeping bag for a good snooze. Ahh, sleeping outside.
Yes, that bird’s song does that. It brings it all back and stirs in me a longing for the outdoors again.
Moments that resonate with you are nudges, things to pause and notice. They are sparks that capture your heart and imagination, and food for the soul. I’m hungry for that kind of food! All too often, the distractions of life can drown out those nudges, and just as fast as they came, the nudge is gone, and life keeps moving.
A big nudge began in me in 2010. Having worked in software project management for nearly 30 years, I felt a shift inside. Something was changing, something was on the horizon, but not yet in view.
A few years earlier, in 2008, I had learned about the water crisis: how it robs life from people every day, and how solvable it is. I had made my first donation to help construct a well in Rwanda, and subsequently started volunteering my spare time with a small local nonprofit, raising awareness and fundraising at weekend events.
I had the opportunity to travel to Rwanda that same year, and there I watched as children took their containers to a culvert under a road to collect water. I wanted to scream No!, but that was the only water source they had, and I was powerless to offer them an alternative.
That trip wrecked me in the best way possible.
I returned to my life, changed. I was unmasked. Our modern and fast-paced lives build opportunities for us to learn how to function in our various environments. Maybe you’ve experienced that yourself. You know how to be in a corporate setting, or at your kid’s soccer game, or with your siblings at a family event. We find ways to be secure, confident, or at least practiced.
Being in rural Rwanda was unmasking, as I had no context from which to pull. In the first village we visited, I sat on the ground with moms and their babies, and we sang together. I played with school kids who were as happy as any child I’d known, yet they had sticks and banana leaves made into toys for their amusement. Each encounter opened my heart to the commonality we have as parents and families. We want our kids to be healthy, to learn, to grow up strong, and to thrive.
When I returned home, I felt a sense of emptiness I didn’t expect. Why, I wondered, when I have “so much more” here at home.
The answer came. What I experienced in Rwanda was an interdependence and community that I lacked at home. With enough money to pay the bills and save some, at home, I was “all set.” I didn’t need my neighbor, my community, or even family for my needs. But in Rwanda, I noticed neighbors depending on each other. On that trip, I depended on my fellow travelers. When I returned home, I missed them, and felt a relational poverty that I had never noticed before.
So what in the world does all this have to do with resonating, or nudges?
Did you know that if you have two tuning forks next to each other, and you strike one, the other will start to resonate at the same tone as the one struck? The unstuck fork catches the vibration from the other fork. It’s fascinating!
As one tuning fork influences another tuning fork, so it is with us. We catch the influence of those around us, and it impacts us, for good or not.
Like the people I met in Rwanda and the people working for the small nonprofit I volunteered with, amazing humans radiated who they are and invited me into something deeper, something relational, something life-giving. My heart opened to possibilities, hopes, dreams of giving my skills and talents to something that mattered deeply.
Now back to 2010, the year of the big nudge. That December, I met The Water Project’s founder, Peter Chasse, at a friend’s house. He was in the area on a house-hunting trip with plans to relocate his family and his then three-year young organization to New Hampshire. We talked at length about the life-changing impact clean water has in people’s lives, and the power of coming together as a community, with our families, churches, schools, foundations, and others to do something important. We struck our proverbial tuning forks together, and the sound reverberated in the room!
Peter gave me the opportunity of a lifetime to join The Water Project, and in February 2011, I began this incredible adventure I’ve been on for the last 12 years. I’ll be forever grateful for what I see as a divine Nudge that was stirring me in 2010, and how that nudge led me to The Water Project.
Each day as I speak with donors, I can almost feel the twang of a tuning fork as conversations unfold, and I hear the passion each one has for doing something powerful with their resources. It’s humbling to hear how people see their money as a tool that can bring life, hope, and deeper dignity to families who don’t have clean water today. I am changed by every conversation, more connected to the life and love that comes from people when they give.
Like my bird that sings in the trees at dusk, there are some things that cause you to pause, lean in, and want more.
To all those who I’ve met over the years, thank you for sharing your lives and resources. You are doing important and powerful things through your giving. We need you. There are many who are still waiting for clean water.
To those I’ve yet to meet, I look forward to that day! Let’s join forces to change lives through clean, safe water.
Together, as we resonate through generosity of heart and of finances, we can do incredible good.
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