It wasn't much.
A fellow musician, a man who leads worship at a small religious group I am part of, asked me to help with something this weekend.
The event was a Tent Revival meeting at a small church in Detroit.
By its architecture, the nearby church building was originally constructed for an Eastern Orthodox congregation. By the signs nearby, it was since used by a different church. Before it was acquired by another church, the host of the Tent Revival meeting.
I was just a musician--but the small band of worshipers and intercessors really enjoyed our support. During the set, I spent a few minutes learning the groove that the other musicians were settling into, and joining them there. Somewhere along the way, I slid from the role of musician-playing-not-often-practiced-songs into the role of worshiper.
The event was something, but it didn't seem to be city-shaking. But the neighbors noticed that people were praying blessing and healing into the depressed area. At least one neighbor talked to the pastor long enough to talk about repentance and salvation.
I feel like I did little. All I did was support the worship, praise, and intercession. The most effective work was done by the people who had been walking the neighborhood, talking and helping, in the days before the Tent Revival.
I don't know what to say. Except that I wish I had been able to clear more of my weekend, and find another way to help.
Alas, the vagaries of already-scheduled events--and an unscheduled, unplanned need for car repair--kept me from doing much more than playing music.