Greece, Day 21: When is the Time

I am on the flight from Athens to Paris,
after 5 hours sleep the previous two nights,
and I just wish for quiet.

She asks me if I was in Athens, my neighbor does.
and I want to deflect, to end, to head off….
I know that my honest answer will fail to do so.

"I was in Lesvos",
prompting an immediate and vague understanding of why I was in Greece.

And we talked, reluctantly talked…
of my time in Greece, her adult children in Paris,
"we were so scared... It could have been them."

Acknowledging that the world is seeing the best and the worst of humanity. Acknowledging that no one is quite sure of the answers,
of how to handle the events we face,
events beyond our choosing.

My mind wanders to the mass of young children who came across the waters these past few days.
Toddlers and 6 year-olds who cannot swim,
being led by parents who cannot swim,
what would bring me to this state, this point of risk with my family?
A risk I don’t begin to comprehend, one I have never faced.

I take my first steps of processing what I was a part of,
what I saw.

When in the midst of my work, I am a taskmaster.
A problem solving engineer focused on
providing the background music,
helping with the setting…
around the refugees,
but not often directly engaged with them.
Focusing on the immediate needs rather than the situation.

But now I am here,
seeing the refugees in my mind's eye more clearly than when I was in their midst.

I don't want to think about this.
I am not ready to be an ambassador when I return home.
I have no more answers than you.

Maybe my experience helps me understand better;
maybe it blinds me in return.

I made it through the conversation with the lovely Parisian,
resolved to talk and listen with empathy.

Now is the time for me to be home,
to bring this experience home with me,
to let it be a part of who I am becoming,
as we are all becoming who we will be.

My Birthday Wish (part 2)

One year ago, I shared before my church my 35th birthday wish from God. He pulled through, and I am the better man because of it.
Again, I was singled out and prompted for what I desired from God this 36th year. Upon being asked, without hesitation, I shared my hope and request that God heal my jaw and the chronic pain associated with it, chronicled here:
what just happened, part 1?
what just happened, part 2?
and finally seeking advice.
God gave me grace last year, He truly did. He can do the same work this year, and I choose to hope for it.

Let me have the courage to revisit this and share what happens next, regardless.

The bottom of the lists

An unexpected email yesterday from the Thomas Eye Group, a rather large outfit here in Atlanta. Maggie had nominated me as one worthy of free LASIK surgery, writing a short essay of my general contributions to life (taking her cue from the political establishment, the writing exaggerates the reality). Worthy or not, it is a generous gesture. The trick, for myself and the two other finalists, was to convince the Facebook world to 'like' one of us the most.

Somehow I am expected to branch out and ask friends, Romans, countrymen to do the great favor of "liking" me, crossing all sorts of indeterminate lines in my life. But if Maggie has gone out on this limb to honor me, and Thomas Eye has taken a step of faith that this gift of theirs will gain some sort of advertisement medium, I need to swallow my introverted pride and get bawdy.

In a moment of appropriate irony, LASIK is something I would love to have, but will never likely put on the top of the list of financial expenditures ("Sorry, kids. No Disney this year. Dad doesn't like his glasses."). I am now being asked to win a LASIK contest to move this dream-ticket to the top of the heap, as long as I engage in self-promotion, distinctly at the bottom of my activity-list.

     "Uhmmm, excuse me, but would you mind clicking this link and 'liking' me?" - too pitiful.

     "My wife really wants you to..." - don't hide behind Maggie; be a man.

     "This is SO CRAZY! I cannot believe that this once in a lifetime opportunity has landed on my lap. I'm just hoping you want to join me in this." - too bobble-headed.

Time to start begging...

My Birthday Wish

A truly valuable portion of our congregation’s liturgy (if I may modernize said term) is the request for each participant to share their birthday wish at the commencement of each month. A noble experiment: What do you want from God this year?
What do we want? Healing, or shoes? Reconnection with a loved one, or a new job? The answers vary by the person, the year, the life circumstances... the trivial, the eternal and everything in between. Upon sharing our desire, we gather and pray for the birthday-folks, and seek God’s blessings for the big and small alike.

35th birthday, 2011: My wish: for me to experience enduring grace, to let go of my guilt, regardless.

I seek this, ask it, and need the faith, courage and presence of mind to receive this gift from God. Theologically, this grace, freedom, resurrection, and redemption has already taken place. The stumbling block is me, my mind, my lack of acceptance. I understand that; but I want/need more help – I need the breakthrough of understanding, receiving the tangible reality of grace.

Ask me whether what I have done is my life.

Some time when the river is ice ask me mistakes I have made,
Ask me whether what I have done is my life.
Others have come in their slow way into my thought,
and some have tried to help or to hurt:
Ask me what difference their strongest love or hate has made.

I will listen to what you say.
You and I can turn and look at the silent river and wait.
We know the current is there, hidden;
and there are comings and goings from miles away that hold the stillness exactly before us.
What the river says, that is what I say

William Stafford, (c) 1977