I received a call from one my most dear friends, Grant, today. He and I had not talked in several months, so needless to say his call was a pleasant surprise.
As we wrapped up our conversation, I commented to Grant, "Well, God is continually faithful to us, that's just the way He tends to be." Grant cracked back, "Yeah, I've been meaning to discuss that with Him." This started a hilarious stint of random thoughts on the illogical process that is called God's faithfulness:
God, I've spit in your face more times than I care to count and yet you're faithful. I've turned tail and ran the other way more than a 100 times I'm sure and yet you take me back. I've been the prodigal and the son that stayed, but you've always been the faithful, loving father. Would you for just a moment take on my faulted thinking and see it my way. I mean seriously, this is getting ridiculous! It's simply illogical and makes absolutely no sense whatsoever.
But you know... I just want to say thanks for being soo incredibly illogical.
What part of the silliness of God are you most thankful?
Showing posts with label Conversations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Conversations. Show all posts
Monday, August 17, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
A Conversation of Meaning
This evening, I wandered outside to check on my tomatoes and get a breath of fresh air. The cool evening air gently laid lightly against my skin. The dark night brought the humble reminder that another day was not just passing but had indeed passed.
As I made toward the back door to head in for the night, a faint whistle caught my attention. I looked back over the fence that separates my yard from my neighbors and could not determine where the whistle originated. The floodlights off my back porch only illuminated my side of the yard, so I totally missed my next door neighbor standing out behind his house waving me down. I walked up to our metal rusting fence and leaned in, and waited for him to make his way over.
Slowly, the dark shape of a tall, lanky man took form to reveal my white haired, cordial neighbor. I reached over the fence to shake his hand. He kindly asked, "How are you?" "Well." I responded. "Wish I could say the same..." His statement surprised me. I believe my face gave me away to him. "Yeah, going away for a few days." "Yeah, where you headed?" "Don't know, my wife is driving. Somewhere in Indiana." "Oh, okay." I sheepishly remarked. "Had to have a shunt put in this week. You know what that is?" "I do." I replied. "Yeah, need to just get away. Get somethings straightened out." "Well, I can only imagine." He stared blankly right past me. "Doc says I should be okay. I hope so." I could hear the doubt in the voice. He even gave one of those fearful laughs. Not really knowing what to say I responded, "Well, I am sure that's the plan." "Yeah, sure is." He then turned his gaze towards me and while I looked him right in the eye I said, "We will be thinking about you." "That means a lot... thank you."
Changing the subject he asked how Sara and I were doing. I told him the good news about Sara being pregnant. A smile lit up his face. "That's great! I know you both are excited." "We certainly are." "That's why you live there." He pointed to my house. "Yeah, apparently it's a fruitful place. The past two owners have had two children while living in the house." "Really..." he said. You could see the gears turning as he tried to remember who all had lived in the house. He spouted off a few last names, then returned his gaze to somewhere in the distance behind me. "I'll be sure to tell my wife... and my boy of course." "Please do." I said with a smile on my face.
About that time, my floodlights cut off and the dark night overcame us. My neighbor said, "I guess that's a sign." While he was getting the words out he started falling over towards the fence. His yard is on a hill just above mine so he was standing a good two feet above where I was standing. I reached over and placed my hand on his thin, frail arm. "Are you alright?" I asked with great concern in my voice. "Yeah, yeah... I'm fine. I'm fine." His voice seasoned with stubbornness. He pushed himself back from the fence to level ground and clumsily made his way back to his back door. "Have a good trip." I commented. "A safe trip is all I ask for." He bid me good evening and turned in for the night. I stood there for a few moments, leaning against the fence, contemplating the conversation that had just taken place.
I could and still can't get the image of his pale, aged face as he said the words, "That means a lot... thank you." He his hopeless gaze warmed and I saw sparks of life resurface. I would have sworn I saw a physical weight lift from his worn and weak shoulders. I suppose he knew I meant what I said. He was a totally different person when I told him the news about our baby. You would have thought I he was this kid's grandparent. Pure delight struck his whole being. I kid you not. It was cool to watch. The man that came to the fence had been replaced by one who somehow, someway remembered life and that it had meaning. I won't soon get over that.
The conversation was short and sweet. I suspect it took no more than five minutes for all that I just described to transpire. But, I can't get over the fact that a simple conversation had such meaning. In all honestly, it would not have meant so much to me had I not seen how much it meant to him. I encourage you... give your conversations meaning... mean them.
As I made toward the back door to head in for the night, a faint whistle caught my attention. I looked back over the fence that separates my yard from my neighbors and could not determine where the whistle originated. The floodlights off my back porch only illuminated my side of the yard, so I totally missed my next door neighbor standing out behind his house waving me down. I walked up to our metal rusting fence and leaned in, and waited for him to make his way over.
Slowly, the dark shape of a tall, lanky man took form to reveal my white haired, cordial neighbor. I reached over the fence to shake his hand. He kindly asked, "How are you?" "Well." I responded. "Wish I could say the same..." His statement surprised me. I believe my face gave me away to him. "Yeah, going away for a few days." "Yeah, where you headed?" "Don't know, my wife is driving. Somewhere in Indiana." "Oh, okay." I sheepishly remarked. "Had to have a shunt put in this week. You know what that is?" "I do." I replied. "Yeah, need to just get away. Get somethings straightened out." "Well, I can only imagine." He stared blankly right past me. "Doc says I should be okay. I hope so." I could hear the doubt in the voice. He even gave one of those fearful laughs. Not really knowing what to say I responded, "Well, I am sure that's the plan." "Yeah, sure is." He then turned his gaze towards me and while I looked him right in the eye I said, "We will be thinking about you." "That means a lot... thank you."
Changing the subject he asked how Sara and I were doing. I told him the good news about Sara being pregnant. A smile lit up his face. "That's great! I know you both are excited." "We certainly are." "That's why you live there." He pointed to my house. "Yeah, apparently it's a fruitful place. The past two owners have had two children while living in the house." "Really..." he said. You could see the gears turning as he tried to remember who all had lived in the house. He spouted off a few last names, then returned his gaze to somewhere in the distance behind me. "I'll be sure to tell my wife... and my boy of course." "Please do." I said with a smile on my face.
About that time, my floodlights cut off and the dark night overcame us. My neighbor said, "I guess that's a sign." While he was getting the words out he started falling over towards the fence. His yard is on a hill just above mine so he was standing a good two feet above where I was standing. I reached over and placed my hand on his thin, frail arm. "Are you alright?" I asked with great concern in my voice. "Yeah, yeah... I'm fine. I'm fine." His voice seasoned with stubbornness. He pushed himself back from the fence to level ground and clumsily made his way back to his back door. "Have a good trip." I commented. "A safe trip is all I ask for." He bid me good evening and turned in for the night. I stood there for a few moments, leaning against the fence, contemplating the conversation that had just taken place.
I could and still can't get the image of his pale, aged face as he said the words, "That means a lot... thank you." He his hopeless gaze warmed and I saw sparks of life resurface. I would have sworn I saw a physical weight lift from his worn and weak shoulders. I suppose he knew I meant what I said. He was a totally different person when I told him the news about our baby. You would have thought I he was this kid's grandparent. Pure delight struck his whole being. I kid you not. It was cool to watch. The man that came to the fence had been replaced by one who somehow, someway remembered life and that it had meaning. I won't soon get over that.
The conversation was short and sweet. I suspect it took no more than five minutes for all that I just described to transpire. But, I can't get over the fact that a simple conversation had such meaning. In all honestly, it would not have meant so much to me had I not seen how much it meant to him. I encourage you... give your conversations meaning... mean them.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)