The Stranger

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November 13, 2009

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I walked into the Ranger’s Arrow Inn and sat down next to the fire like I usually do. The place was half full – lots of regulars were there that I had seen before. I was waiting patiently for someone to come and get my order, when all of a sudden I jumped out of my seat. There was a woman sitting in the chair next to me. How she got there I had no clue. I tried to calm myself and I sat back down.

“How are you doing today?” she asked me with a sweet voice.

“I’m doing fine, and you?”

“No really, how are you doing?” This time her voice sounded sweet and sincere.

I sat there for a moment wondering who this was and what I should say. How much of my life do I show to a stranger? “Really, I’m doing fine.”

She looked at me and I could see a sadness in her eyes. There was something about her that kept me looking at her. Her skin was perfect.  Her nose just the right size. Her ears were small and covered by her long flowing locks. But her eyes held me.

She said, “How is your mother?” A tear rolled down her cheek,

I sat there, hardly breathing, my mind was racing. Who was this woman, and how did she know about my mother? My heart was telling me to trust her, but my mind was telling me to run. I sat there, unable to move. A tear rolled down my cheek.

“How are you doing today?” she asked again, but this time her voice was firm, yet gracious. My mind felt compelled to answer, but my heart already felt comforted by the fact she seemed to really care how I was doing.

“I feel like a failure. I feel lost.” I paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “How do you know about my mother, and why do you care about how I’m doing?”

The woman smiled at me and reached out one of her hands towards me. When I didn’t take it, she rested it on the table. “I know many things, and the one who sent me knows all things. I know that you need to know that someone cares, and I know that you are not a failure or lost.”

I don’t know how long I sat there in silence.

“How?” was all I said as I looked at a stain on the table cloth.

She smiled. “A good first question. I have seen your mother’s plight. I heard her crying in the dark. I saw that you tried to help, but distances and time were against you. I have seen you tossing and turning at night.”

I looked up at her, and her eyes caught me again.

“No, I haven’t been peering in your window at night, but I have seen into your heart. I know you wanted to go to her when you first heard the news, but you have commitments here as well. I know it has been tearing you apart.”

She lifted her hand and held it out to me again. “Take it.”

I looked at her hand, held there in front of me. I started to move my hand, but then hesitated.

“Take it. I will not harm you. I am here to restore you.”

Her words were so soft, yet carried so much force. She spoke like she expected me to act. I fought with myself, struggling with the decision of whether to do as she asked, or to run. Then I heard this small voice telling me to trust her, and I felt a peace come over me.

I reached out my hand and took her’s. Her skin was soft and smooth – perfect like every other part of her. It felt right to be holding her hand, but at the same time wrong. She held my hand tenderly, but forcefully – like a father holding the hand of his child in a crowded marketplace. I could feel the power within her.

Sitting at that table, holding the hand of a women I didn’t know, but who seemed to know me, I didn’t know what to think. I had made a vow to refrain from physical contact with women, but here I was.

She broke my train of thought. “You have not broken your vow. Your vow is to refrain from sharing physical pleasures. There is nothing wrong with sharing Godly compassion.”

“But how can I do one without stumbling into the other?”

She squeezed my hand. “By knowing the difference, and desiring the better.”

I pondered her words and felt a strength from her presence – from her touch. My heart began to lighten.

“How can you restore me? What do I need to be restored to?”

“Another good question. You have heard that your mother has became ill, that she may already be dead. You thought to go to her, but you were needed here. You thought you might be able to reach her in time – that you might have been able to save her.”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t go, and so you healed many people here. Now you feel like a failure even though you know that God has been using you here.”

“Yes.”

“What is God’s domain?”

I looked up towards the ceiling. “Heaven.” She waited for me to continue. “and all of creation.” I looked back into her eyes.

“And your mother’s life?”

“Yes. And my mother’s life.”

“Is God supreme?”

“Yes”

“Over your mother’s life?”

I tried to say yes, but the words got caught.

“If God chose to call her home, would that be his right?”

“Yes, but …”

“Who is supreme?”

“God is.”

“Yet you punish yourself for staying here and doing God’s work.”

“I …”

“God is proud of you for obeying. He want’s you to have peace in his plans.”

I nodded.

“Do you accept that God is in control?”

“Yes, I do.” As I said those words a peace flowed over me – a peace that only comes from feeling God’s presence.

“Hi, are you Hector?” The voice came from behind me. I turned and looked. A man stood there wearing traveling cloths. He looked cold and tired.

“Yes, I am.”

“Good, I have news from your mother.”


“Please, come sit with my friend and me.” I motioned to a chair.

My eyes followed him as he walked around me to the table. I noticed with a start that the beautiful young woman I had been talking to was gone. I quickly looked around, but she was no where in sight. The man sat down beside me.

“I don’t have much news, but your mother wanted me to tell you that she is doing much better, and that she is very proud of you. She also said that she thought she would be coming to visit you this spring.”

I don’t know what came over me, but I leaned over and gave him a big hug. He was a bit startled. The man didn’t have any more news of my mother for me, but I bought him dinner and we talked for hours about nothing.

That night I had given my mother to God, and he had given her back. More than that, however, he let me see a little more of who he is, and let me feel his presence.

Categories: Faith, God.

Hospitality (town part 3)

3

October 19, 2009

I had dinner tonight with Jenny and her parents, Sara and John. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I offered to take them to a restaurant, but Sara insisted that she was going to make dinner. She said, “It’s the least I can do after all you’ve done for Jenny and her friend.”

I tried to tell her that I really hadn’t done anything, but she insisted that I had made a real difference in her daughter’s life.

I walked down to the lower town just before dusk. I walked to the place where I usually met the kids. Jenny was waiting for me there. When she saw me, she ran to me and threw her arms around me.

After our greeting, Jenny took my hand and started leading me to her house. She was so excited – she was dancing all around. “I can’t wait to show you my room. I have a little bed and a dresser, and even a mirror.”

I smiled at her and tried to keep up with her as she kept pulling me to go faster. “I can’t wait to see it either, I bet it’s really nice.”

“It is!” Jenny beamed.

As we walked on I noticed that we were leaving the wood shacks and muddy streets of the poor part of town. What I hadn’t known was that there was an even poorer part of town.

“Is this where you live?” I asked her.

“Yes, we’re all most there. Hurry up.”

The houses here were little more than temporary huts, some made of animals skins, others from reeds tied together. I was sure none would keep the rain out, and that most would collapse with the first snow.

We turned around the corner of a shack made of branches and reeds, and I could see our destination. Jenny’s house might have been better than those around it, but it looked like it might fall in the first strong wind.

It was built against the town’s outer wall, where the wall got thicker because of the guard post on the top of the wall. Thus the town wall provided two of the house’s walls.

The house was build as a lean-to, with larger branches making the main supports. Tied between these supports were horizontal branches. Layered vertically on these were pine branches.

I saw Sara cooking over an open pit in front of the house. There was a large metal pot hanging over the fire. There was a large piece of the pot missing, broken off from some previous drop or overheating.

Jenny released my hand and ran to her mother. After hugging her daughter, Sara looked up and waved to me. “Welcome, Hector. Dinner is almost ready. I hope you’re hungry.”

“Yes ma’am, I am. I brought some bread and fresh berries. Where should I put them?”

“Oh, you didn’t need to do that, but they will both go well with dinner. You can just put them on the table. Jenny will show you where.”

With that Jenny grabbed my hand again and pulled me into her home. We passed through the cloth door and into the main room.

The room was lit by three tallow candles. In the middle of the room was a table made from a piece of wood cut from a log, sitting on a smaller chunk of wood. The table was low, maybe two feet high, and it appeared that we would be sitting on the ground to eat.

In addition to the table there was a sleeping mat along the back of the room – against the stone wall of the town wall. There were also some wooden crates that held food, and a few pans and dishes stacked neatly.

Jenny pulled me to the other side of the room and showed me a little hole in the wall. She quickly crawled through and called for me to follow. I set my bag on the table, got down on my hands and knees, and followed her through the hole.

Jenny had brought one of the candles with her and it lit up her room. The room was two feet by five feet, and five feet high at its tallest and two feet at its lowest.

Most of the small room was covered by a straw sleeping mat. At the foot of her bed was a small chest, which she showed me held her three dresses, three pairs of underwear, and a jacket for when it got cold.

Folded neatly at the head of the bed was a comforter, which I recognized from the handiwork as being one made by Mrs. Jenkens. There was also a little pillow and a nightgown.

Jenny was so proud as she showed me each of her dresses, especially her special dress that she wore to church. Then she showed me Mrs. Smiles, her rag doll. She gave her to me so I could hug her.

I have to admit I was a bit torn inside. Part of me wanted to pity her – living in such poverty, but part of me was happy for her – that she could be filling such joy from life.

It wasn’t long until we heard Sara calling us for dinner. Jenny and I crawled back through the little doorway into the main room. John was sitting at the table. Now that I saw him, I realized that I had spoken to him before as he had been heading out of town to hunt.

“Hello John, it’s nice to see you again.”

“As it is you. Come and sit. Jenny, help your mother bring in the food.”

Jenny ran out to help her mother and soon the two of them came in with dinner.

I’m not sure what I expected for dinner. All I know is this wasn’t it.

John sliced thick pieces of bread from the loaf I brought and put one on each plate. Sara brought in the cracked pot and set it on the table. Jenny brought in a smaller pan and set it on the table, too.

Sara used a cup to ladle the contents of the pot onto each slice of bread. The mixture consisted of some sort boiled greens, fresh onions, mushrooms, pine nuts, and some spices in a light gravy.

Jenny handed me the small pot. I looked inside and paused for a second. The pot was full of fried crickets. I used the a spoon and placed a few on the edge of my plate.

After we finished dishing up our food, John stretched his hands to Jenny and me. Jenny grabbed his hand and held her other hand out to her mother, who took it and then held out her hand to me. I smiled and took both of their hands.

We all bowed our heard and John prayed. “Heavenly Father. Thank you for the bounty you have provided. You provide so wonderfully for those who trust you. Thank you for bring Hector to be with us this evening. Bless him and keep him. Be with us tonight, be in our hearts and words. And all God’s people say …”

Then we all said together, “Let it be so.”

When I opened our eyes, the three of them had all started eating. I steadied myself and joined them. The vegetables were surprisingly tasty and the gravy made the bread wonderful. I was a bit hesitant to try the crickets, but Jenny was eating them like they were candy. The crickets were crunchy and a little bitter. They were also hot, and the glass of water did little to relive the burning in my mouth.

As we ate, we talked. John said it was so nice of me to spend time with the children. I told him my story of being robbed and how the kids had been teaching me a lot.

When John was finished with his plate he took a piece of bread and wiped the rest of the gravy from the pot and ate it. Jenny, Sara and John all licked their plates clean, then Sara took the pot back outside.

She returned with a dutch oven. She opened it and the room was filled with the smell of fresh crisp. Sara dished up the crisp and then put the fresh berries I brought on top. “Isn’t it wonderful how these things always work out. It makes you wonder if God planed it this way.”

We all finished our desert and all of us licked our plates clean. Hey, I didn’t want to be impolite.

Sara cleared the table as we continued to talk. I watched her put the pots away, and then carefully stack the plates back on the shelf. That’s when I realized that she wasn’t going to wash the dishes. I’m not sure what I think about that now, but at the time I thought I was glad I didn’t know about it until after we ate.

We talked for another hour or so, then Sara got up and took the last two candles out of a little box and lit them. I tried several times to excuse myself so they wouldn’t waste their last two candles talking to me, but they wouldn’t let me leave. As the candles began to flicker I tried to cast a light spell, but God didn’t answer my prayer, or rather, he said “No.” There was something important about this family giving all they had to honor someone who had honored their daughter.

As the second to last candle went out Sara apologized and said something about them not making candles like they use to. I agreed with her and said I needed to be going anyway – that I had early prayers in the morning – even though I knew she had probably made the candles herself.

We left their little house and said our goodbyes around the fire pit, which was now just a few glowing coals. I noticed that Sara blew out the last candle before she joined us.

After getting a big hug from Jenny, John walked me back to the main road. He thanked me again for visiting and said I was welcome to drop by any time. I told him that next time it would be my turn to show him some hospitality.

We shook hands and I started the long walk back to my stone apartment, with its fireplace and oil lamps. As I walked I wondered who would sleep better tonight. – the three who had just given all they had to make me feel welcome, or me who was wondering how I could have ever complained about wanting anything.

Categories: Faith, Life.

In Town (town part 1)

2

September 23, 2009

I’ve heard it said before, “Be careful what you pray for, God might answer you.” One of those times was when I was going to be working with ten and eleven year old boys for a week, one of my instructors said I didn’t need to pray and ask for God to teach me patience! That we were already going to be taught to be patient.

Well, this week in service we prayed a prayer together, “God, I ask you to lead me into the places of this town where your good news needs to be heard.” I prayed along with everyone else and then promptly forgot all about it. I know, I shouldn’t be admitting that I didn’t take that prayer to heart, but at the same time I wouldn’t want to lie and imply I did. But, God took it to heart.

Two days later I was walking along the promenade, minding my own business, on my way to a meeting. All of a sudden I noticed that the weight at my left hip was gone – someone had just snatched my coin purse. I turned around and saw a cloaked figure moving quickly away from me through the crowd. I started following the figure, trying not to run into anyone, but he or she was leaving me behind. By the time I reached the end of the promenade, the figure was a good half a block ahead of me and headed down into the lower town.

I started running, as did the figure. I was keeping up, but getting no closer. At this point I guess I should tell you a little bit about the town I live in. Maple Grove is a beautiful town in a beautiful valley, tucked way in the mountains. Just about 3,000 people live in town, with a few hundred more in the farms around town. That’s 3,000 officially; I would guess there are a lot more. The town is built in three parts. There is the old town, which is on top of a hill. It is filled with very old stone buildings. It is where the fancy shops are and the fancy people live. It’s where I live, but in one of the less fancy places. At the bottom of the hill, to the north and to the south are the two lower towns. There the buildings are mostly made of wood, and mostly are not fancy at all. A stone wall encircles the the lower towns, and another stone wall encircles the old town.

As I ran after the cloaked figure we headed deeper and deeper into the northern lower town. I kept losing site of my quarry as he or she disappeared around corners. The stone street turned to dirt and then into mud as I ran. I was slowing dow, breathing hard, and then I rounded a corner and saw a group of children huddled together. I didn’t see the cloaked figure, but I heard crying. In an instance I had to make a decision – do I keep following the cloaked figure, or I stop and see why someone is crying? I stopped.

Holding my side, I walked up to the group of children. There were six of them. Four were standing in a circle looking at the other two. One was laying on the ground crying. The last one was holding the crying one’s head in her hands, stroking his hair softly, and talking quietly. “Don’t cry Jimmy. You’ll be okay. Don’t be mad at the man, he was just in a hurry.” Jimmy stop crying as he was comforted by the young girl.

“You know Jimmy, I think we should pray for that man. He was in too much of a hurry. Will you pray with me?”

Jimmy nodded his head yes and the little girl continued to stroke his hair.

“God, please be with the man who was just here. Speak to him and let him know that you love him. Let him know that there is more to life than running from here to there. Let him know your peace.”

Jimmy nodded his head and added, “God, help him to be slower.”

“Amen,” the little girl added and gave Jimmy an little hug.

I stood there watching this, wondering how a little girl of seven or eight could be so wise. I wondered how her prayer for the thief who robbed me, might apply to me as well. I had run like him. I had run through these streets not seeing where I was. If I hadn’t been so tired, I might have run right past the children like he did. But I didn’t run by them. I stopped and watched and listened. Then I remembered my prayer earlier in the week, “… lead me into the places of this town where your good news needs to be heard.” Here I was, in a part of the town I had never been in, and hearing God’s good news coming from the mouth of a child.

I knelt down next to Jimmy. “How are you doing, Jimmy?”

Jimmy looked up to me and smiled. “I’m doing fine now.” Then he looked up into the girls eyes and smiled.

“Do you believe what you just heard? Do you believe that the man who ran by here needs God’s love?”

“I think so. At first I was just mad at him for running into me, but I think Jenny is right. He was in too much of a hurry and God needs to help him.”

“Do you know what believe means, Jimmy? It means to trust and to do. It looks to me like you believe. You trusted Jenny and you prayed with her, too. Do you know what the next step is?”

Jimmy shook his head no.

“It is to follow. Do you want to follow, too?”

“I guess so.”

“Then you should pray for that man everyday for a week. Can you do that?”

“Yes – but I don’t know If I can.”

I smiled at Jimmy. “I’m trying to believe and follow what God is showing me, too. How about if I meet you here everyday for the next week and we can pray for the man together?”

“I would like that,” Jimmy said.

“Me too.” added Jenny.

We’ve meet now for three days, Jimmy, Jenny and me. We’ve only spent a couple minutes together each day, but it has changed my week. Today I’m taking some muffins with me so we can spend a little longer together.

Categories: Faith.

Wilderness

3

September 14, 2009

Great Desert

A couple of years ago I went on a long journey to the city of Blue Spring, which is in the southern part of the Great Desert. For part of that journey, the part from White Water to Blue Spring, I hiked cross country. At times I was following paths made by other travelers. At times I followed the trails that animals had created. Sometimes I was forced to make my own way.

As I continued, the amount of time I was forging my own trail increased, until the prairie turned to sand. At that point there were no trails or paths, and the trail I made as I went disappeared behind me as the winds moved the shifting sand.

On the third day crossing the sands of the Great Desert, I came upon another group of travelers. These travelers, I quickly learned, were nomadic herdsmen. The group consisted of three families and their fifty-three cattle.

It was approaching evening and one of the men, Bindan, invited me to spend the evening with them. They shared their milk and meat with me, and I shared my hard biscuits and dried fruits with them.

As we ate, and afterwards watching the stars dominate the sky, we talked. They asked me about where I lived and what it was like. I told them of the mountains, the trees and grass, the rain and snow. I told them about the great cities and the herds of deer.

I was a little surprised by their response. I expected them to envy me, to wish they could live in such a wonderful place, a place favored by God. But they weren’t. In fact Bindan said, “I feel sorry for you, but at least you are in God’s country now. May God bless you and teach you his ways.”

I have to admit I was a little taken aback. I don’t want to sound like I’m boasting, but I thought God had taught me his ways. God had blessed me in so many ways. Then I remembered why I was here in this place. I was headed to Blue Spring on a pilgrimage. I had been instructed to travel there because God had something to teach me.

I had assumed that the thing I was suppose to learn was in Blue Spring, but sitting there on a warm evening, looking at an uncountable number of stars, I wondered, if maybe the lesson was on the journey, not at the destination.

“Why would you call this God’s country,” I asked Bindan.

Bindan poked a stick at the small fire for a few moments before he answered. “This place is hard. There is no place here to make a home. We must wander the dunes and hills looking for grass and water for our cattle. I cannot look at that dune over there and tell you if there is water on the other side. How many days have you walked through this wilderness? How many pools of water have you seen?”

“I’ve traveled three days and I haven’t seen any pools.”

“If we travel more than a day without finding water our supplies will be exhausted. If we traveled two days without water some of our cattle would die. Three days without water and we would all be on the verge of death. Four days and there will be no fifth for any of us. So how do we survive?”

“You find water. You must know how to find it.”

“We do know how, but it is not a skill we have. Every morning we gather and pray. We ask God which way to walk. We ask Him to guide our footsteps. Everyday someone in the group knows the way to walk, they feel it. Everyday we listen to that person and follow him or her. Everyday we find water. We have found water everyday for as long as I’ve been alive.”

“But if you lived where I do, you wouldn’t have to…” I stopped in mid-sentence and Bindan finished it for me.

“trust God.”

I sat in silence. I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t going to say “trust God,” but his words convicted me. That was what was in my heart.

“We live here because it forces us to trust God. We know in our hearts that if we didn’t have to follow God’s leading we would each follow our own hearts. We also know it is so much better to follow God’s. But that’s not all. Because we follow God he has blessed us. Do you know the last time one of us was sick? I couldn’t tell you how many generations. Do any of us want for anything? No. We have our cattle. From them we have everything we need. They supply our food and clothing, our utensils and tents, and God keeps them alive for us.”

“I must be honest with you, what I told you before was a half truth. Everyday that we pray to God and ask for his guidance we find water, but sometimes we don’t pray. Sometimes we want to prove to ourselves that we can take care of ourselves. We become arrogant. On those days, when our memories have become short and we don’t remember what happened the last time we didn’t pray, we head off into the wilderness and find no water.”

“Sometimes we even go two days on our own. God humbles us and we return to him and ask for forgiveness. For some reason God is always merciful to us, and forgives us, and leads us again. He blessed us again, and we know we are loved.”

I moved closer to Bindan, feeling very humbled myself and not wanting to have my voice heard by anyone else, and said to him, “Forgive me.”

“He looked at me, the fire light dancing off of his eyes. “You have done nothing that I need forgive you for. It may be God that you need to ask.”

I nodded. I got up and walked out across the sand, I sat alone and thought and prayed. I took a quick inventory of my life and didn’t like what I saw. There was pride. There was a feeling that I could live without God if I chose to. There was my attachment to my belongings. More than anything else there was my belief that I understood God.

I fell asleep sitting there. When I woke I fond that someone had covered me with a blanket. I rose and made my way back into the camp and found Bindan. He smiled at me and nodded his head.

“Are you ready Hector?”

“Ready?”

“We have prayed to God and he has told us that it is you who are to pray and lead us today.”

“Me? No I can’t”

“Are you saying God has lied to us?”

“No. But perhaps you where mistaken.”

“Why do you doubt Hector?”

“I … I’m afraid. What if God doesn’t speak to me? What if I lead you in the wrong direction?”

“Our faith is sufficient. God said that you will lead us, and so you will. God does not lie. Come now, it is time.”

I didn’t know what else to do so I followed him. He lead me to the rest of the group and we prayed together. And God spoke to me. I didn’t hear him say words to me, but I knew which hills to walk over; I saw each one in my mind.

God gave me the faith to trust the vision he had given me. That day I led Bindan and his people to the water God had prepared for us. It was a very humbling journey because I knew I didn’t find the water, but that God had used me.

That second evening we talked again and Bindan finished his explanation of why his people chose to live in this place. Not only do they have to trust God and feel his leading in their lives, by living in this place God has prepared their hearts and sends them to do his work.

By keeping pride out of their hearts, by removing greed from their minds, by having each of them in turn carry out God’s leading, he has build a community. A place where all belong and everyone loves everyone else.

God had prepared them to meet me in the wilderness. They had crossed my path because God had told them to wait for me, and being obedient they had waited. He had prepared them to believe that I, a stranger, could also be the one who speaks for God. And finally he prepared them to prepare me and send me off with a new understanding of where I fit in to this world.

I thought about staying with them, but they said that God had other plans for me. They also told me that if I ever felt lost I was always welcome to come back and discover the simple truths of listening and obeying God, in this land where God dwells because his people are here listening.

So then, what brought this story to my mind today? I was talking to a friend about the pilgrimage he made to Blue Spring. He was telling me of the magnificent building on the edge of the oasis. He went on and on about the date trees and the wonderful food. He said that it had changed his life.

I listened to his story, but my own played back in my head. I felt sorry for him that he had not met Bindan in the wilderness. I thought for a moment that it might have been nice to see Blue Spring, but then again I remembered that on the second morning I had prayed to God and asked which way I should walk. He lead and I followed. He didn’t led me to Blue Spring, but I have never regretted where he has led me.

Categories: Faith, prayer.

The Power of God

0

August 22, 2009

Some people ask me how I know God is real?

Honestly I want to say, how could you even ask such a question. Don’t you have eyes. Of course that’s not what I say. I usually smile, give God a quick thank you for bring a searching person to me, and then take a deep breath.

I guess it’s easier for me to know that God is real, that he’s involved with our lives. I’m a cleric and I can feel God’s power flowing through me. Sometimes it’s impressive, like when I lay my hands on someone and God’s power flows through me and I can see their wounds go away. More often it is quiet, like when I talk to someone and I know just the right words to say, and I see a life healed.

I don’t know how to describe this feeling, other than to say the word joy. When I know that God is using me I am filled with joy. I’m filled with a contentment. I’d like to say peace, but sometimes when God is using me, peace is the last word I would describe the environment I’m in, or the inner turmoil that fills me.

You see, even though I know God is using me, I know that God is involved and has a plan. Most of the time I have no clue what that plan is. In fact lots of times I get frustrated because God doesn’t seem to be doing what I know needs to happen. In those times I have to stop and realize that God is using me and that is enough. If I can tell what little thing he want’s me to do, then I can forget about everything else and just be content that I’m doing what I’m suppose to be doing.

When I stop and realize that, the peace does come despite the turmoil that surrounds me. It is in those moments, like no others, that I know God is real, because only he could give me that peace.

Categories: Faith, God.