Apple Seeds
We are out for a walk tonight. It is finally the diminishing of a cruel summer. It comes to my mind a wonderful concept of how small we are:
A man can count the number of seeds in an apple. But only god can count the number of apples in a seed.
Huge crescent moon setting tonight in the western sky. Sitting on a bench at the university with a a plaque indicating an event of some sort in 2010.
Lining the ten foot wide walkway are elm trees. The little gold leaves rustle in the warm night breeze. The trees have taken a note from the grasses and slipped into preservation mode against the hear t and the absolute dry at the end of summer.
Perhaps they pray, as do we all, that next week will bring relief from this furnace of existence.
At my feet I can see motion in the cracks of the sidewalk. A closer inspection reveals the little black ants are hard at work in spite of the late hour. I wonder if the grasshopper is nearby in a tiny hammock between two branches of a small shrubbery.
In spite of the breeze, it’s a hot night. As they have been for months. But it’s nothing compared to the daytime.
We started early this morning with the missus headed north with an elderly friend who wanted company on a shopping trip across the Red River. They bought nothing, but it reportedly was worth the time as the older friend needed to vent.
She lives with her sister. They are both widows and in spite of both of them having children, they really have each other. For one reason or another, their offspring see them not at treasures to be guarded, but as resources to be harvested.
And though they really only have each other, they fight like two cats. Sometimes kind and sometimes murderous.
Once she was back, we started prepping to deliver some furniture we no longer need to a new woman in the congregation. I’m not sure what her story is, but she has almost no possessions. So it is very helpful to find a home for this sofa and the table.
Hoping to avoid lifting AT ALL, I call a couple of of young friends. The 16yo is game, but the 25yo is just too busy. So, some lifting, I guess. I hook up my little trailer I have affectionately named Kermit the Towed and, load the table and the couch and head over to pick up Leo.
His mom didn't name him after the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. Not to mention: Meet me In St Louis (1944) An American in Paris (1951) Hard Days Night (1964) Once (2007) Cabaret (1972) – Okay, 16 is probably a little young for this weight Fame (1980)
Eeesh. I could be at this all day.
The point is, Leo needs to see the musical landscape. And get a clue.
When I asked him what kind of degree a HS music teacher needed, he answered, 'Uh, not sure, I guess a masters?'.
Seems a bit much.
'How much will that degree cost you?' Prodding to see if he'd considered all the costs.
'Ummmmm, not sure. Maybe, like $4000?' He answered ponderously.
I laughed, 'Per credit HOUR?'.
I encouraged him to look into those little details while he's catching up on all the glorious Musi captured on celluloid.
Heading out into the heat, I realize I’ve skipped breakfast and lunch, solved by a stop at Luigi’s for a slice of Mediterranean pizza. I’m so glad they stared a by-the-slice shop.
Luigi is selling a 2006 version of our poor dinged-up Benz. I neither need nor want a new-to-us vehicle. But, the low miles and good price make it very tempting.
I will later go home and get a microfiber and a bottle of goo-gone. A half an hour later, the car looks positively dignified. No perfect, but the damage will be hardly noticeable.
After pizza, we make our way to the QT down the street to fuel up. Walking in to pay, a rough looking fellow sitting at one of the shaded tables comments, ‘I like your shirt! Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!’
It is a design of my own from the MyPopYourPop I did 10 years ago.
TEN years ago? Christ!! I’m old enough that 10 years now feels like yesterday. While 10 months ago feels like a millennia.
How. Weird.
I smile at the man. He has the rough edge of a homeless man. But not the complete disarray.
So I go in to the store and pick up a drink, on the way out, I make eye contact and nod.
The man then says, 'Say there, Danger, don't have a couple of quarters you could spare, do you?'
Smiling, I say, 'Sure!' And reach in my pocket and snatch the loose coins flopping around.
Then I used an old trick any time I patronize a panhandler: I ask for more info. I feel like I've purchased the entry fee to a bit of a show. If that diminishes the human, I'm sorry. But it is is a public space and they approach me, so I feel no guilt.
“So,” I begin, “homeless? That must be rough. How long have you been toughing it out here in the raw world?”
“Yeah. It ain't easy. But you gotta do what you gotta do. I've been out on the streets for about 3 years.”
“Three years!” I said. “How on earth do you end up from regular life to no place to live... we're probalby about the same age? Maybe I'm a little older.“ ”I'm 53, born April 10, 1973. It's wild. I used to have a job and a family. But then I made a series of bad choices and ended up in prison. While I was inside, my parents passed away. MY wife moved on and I lost everything.”
I was flabbergasted. Though, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. We talked for about 15 minutes and we exchanged names. I related some of my fears as an aging man in the United States with no retirement plan, savings or substantive possessions of value. Essentially, we both saw how tenuous our existence is in this world. Everyone clawing to keep their place and that ledge of place is getting narrower and narrower al the time.
Eventually, I felt comfortable enough to pitch a hope from the Bible.
“You know Robert, I'm a long time student of hte Bible. And I've lived almost every day of the last 40 years expecting the world to scene to shift dramatically. Do yo u mind if I share something from the Bible?”
“Oh, yeah, sure man. I'm a Christian, I'm confident God will fix this eventually.” Robert said.
I opened by app to Psaml 37: 10, 11.
Just a little while longer, and the wicked will be no more; You will look at where they were, And they will not be there.
But the meek will possess the earth, And they will find exquisite delight in the abundance of peace.
“Man, that sounds great... I just wish it would hurry up.” Robert told me.
“I know. Me too. I've been praying for it for decades. And I won't lie, I get nervous sometimes that it won't come soon enough. But you know what the Bible says God CANNOT do?” I asked.
Robert smiled, “Huh... you know I just always heard everything was possible with God.”
“Two things that are impossible for the Creator, Robert,” I smiled “He cannot die and he cannot lie. That means if he says the train is coming' it's coming.”
“I guess that's true. I never thought about that.”
My wife was waiting and it was about 105º. I offered to look for him in the future and explain why we can have so much confidence in God's word.
As a parting farewell, I dug out my last two dollars and offered them to Robert. His eyes lit up.
“Oh! God bless you, man! That's all I needed to get a slice of pizza! I'll keep you in my prayers.
We're busy counting the one, two, three, four in front of us. Meanwhile, the Creator is watching not just you and I, but every human ever. And He understands something we cannot comprehend: the complex path that brings all of creation back into its original state.
Eventually all these imbalances will corrected. Perfection, the Bible promises.
Maybe I belong where Robert is. Cast into the wild to figure it out for myself.
I'm suddenly thinking of Samson. How we all start powerfully and with the best of intent. But with time and a series of questionable decisions, we lose our power entirely.
But not ourselves. Samson may have been in fetters and blind, but he still had a desire to be the man he was before. Someone who loved Jehovah.
Maybe that's what keeps us going. Robert, Samson, me, You... that desire to be the potential in each of us.
Robert's just living day to day. Hoping for something better. Asking for it. But not always responsive when it comes.
Sounds familiar.
And what I said was true, I've been waiting for the train to come for decades. Some waited their whole lives. I might be too.
For some it's harder than it is for others. The right team makes long days short and years fly by quickly as a wink. Again, choices.
I'll keep my eyes peeled for Robert. And keep him in my prayers. Maybe you can t0o. We'll both pray for a man who maybe deserved what he got. But then again, who deserves this life?
We were created to worship God. To live, to have laughter and warmth and happiness. Peace all of our days. To be known and seen and valued. Prized and loved. Not commodified or treated as decoration.
My life isn't perfect. I've made some critical errors. Some are extremely difficult to live with. But I can live with them.
I have to.
If I got the chance to push those pillars, I'd take it. Bet you would too.
