A country road.
A country friend.
As I walked that mysterious trail of life, I encountered what
was a stranger yet he seemed like a friend. I asked. “Who are you?”.
His reply struck my heart, “I am a traveler, like you. I am a messenger
seeking a message.”. I stepped back.
It was a puzzling response to my question. I pursued his
statement with a bit of humor. ”But, you appear so real!”. If
wanted to pinch you, I’m sure you would yell.” Again, his reply stunned
me…
”I live in the hearts of many people you have touched but I don’t
know you. Many carrying your message in their hearts for a bit.
Others only give token attention. Others leave your words where they
were spoken. Others use the words and then discard them. Only
a token few take them as their own. Only a few carry them as their
own and spread their message to others and I seek to be one of them.”
And, with a tone of voice a bit challenging, I sought to know
what that message might be that would justify such a visit. Maybe
I was equally wondering if this guy was just a hoax or a mean joke being
played. Or, maybe, just maybe…he was real. You know, I asked,
I’m not sure what my message is? Can you tell me? And,
without hesitation, he responded…
”It’s really not your message”. What you give comes from
your will to help His children to see themselves as He sees them.
It’s a message that accepts the world as God’s world full of choices and
opportunity. Your message demonstrates the powerlessness of evil except
as we give it power. Your gifts begin with an acceptance of God’s
laws…laws that require us to sometimes give up our comfort, laws that require
us to change, seek, work. It’s a motivational plan that can not fail.
It’s a vison based upon the capacity to see fellow travelers and circumstances
without their disguises. It’s a faith and trust in our worth even
when all else crumbles around us. It’s a great product you peddle
but few buy it.
Sounded good to me. Of course it did. It was my “song
and dance”. But I wondered why this stranger suddenly appeared today
walking my trail? Was there another message I should be learning?
Why should I have such a personal encounter?
Then up ahead we spotted a resting-place. A bench strangely
positioned along side a country road. It was not appropriate but welcome.
I suggested we sit for a few minutes and talk. He agreed. We
sat silently. I was struck with the view. It was a midday view
of horses grazing, a few busy bees hovering round the roadside wild flowers.
The sun was high and I noted no traffic along this country road. It
was like a dream.
I looked to this stranger who now felt like a friend. I
saw a fellow traveler. I saw the struggle, the success and hurt that
lived there in his eyes. His face told a story too….it was ready
for adventure with no trepidation. His voice was gentle but
confident. He also appeared struck with this strange meeting along
a country road. We exchanged names. We exchanged thoughts cautiously
while seeking answers. He was in school. I was retired.
He was early in his life’s adventure while I was winding down. He
was in baggy, loose clothing while I wore jeans. It was a paradox…a
meeting of opposites. What could be of common interest here, I wondered?
And then it came to me. A need waited to be met.
It was a necessary issue still left undone. He sought my personal
commitment without giving his first. He sought more than my words.
I shuttered. I was stunned. He was here to test the words that
my life had spoken. In his silence, the healing process had begun.
He asked how much I was ready to give. He asked how much
damage I could endure. This hippy dressed kid was testing my metal.
He tested. He pushed. He tried trickery. And, I thought
to myself..."Why in the Hell did this have to be?"
Then suddenly, without warning, another door opened. The
kid spoke…”I want to believe your message but I’m here first to test the
source of this knowledge. Do you really believe I can succeed?
I’ve often been a loser. I’ve known the depths of loss that have taken
me to the ugliness and worthlessness of life. I’ve committed sins
for which I can’t believe God’s forgiveness awaits. Is your message
real? Are you real?”
The challenging conversation had become a healing process.
He opened the door to talk about his hurts, failures and past personal devastating
injuries. It wasn’t a whining session. It was a time to share
and then discard that baggage that hindered success. And in my participation,
I found no problem talking about the devastating injuries occurring from
my hand…even the subtle stuff that occured when I didn’t answer the phone
call from a homeless friend. He talked about the times he shared with
those who could not be trusted, the hurts by his hand and his misunderstandings
that so damaged others.
Then I began to see what was happening. It seemed like
a chance meeting of hurting hearts that needed healing. In His most
miraculous way, another one of His plans had fallen together to heal and
restore not just one but a couple of His children. And, how appropriate
could it be than to bring a couple small town boys together along a country
road on a warm summer day. It was a priceless gift.
We shared for hours. The sun was now near sunset.
Our mental hurts, injuries and guilt lay all around our feet. And
as darkness fell, we were clean. We were restored and ready to resume
our work. My message was now his and we were friends.
I tell you this story today, with some embellishments but nearly
all fact. I share it with you so you might understand how I did acquire
a friend as I was walking a country road.
Please...no
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