The "Visitor"

Couldn't sleep....Tossed and turned....Thoughts chased my dreams away and kept me from the sleep I needed. Arising from my bed, I slipped on my house shoes and quietly closed the bedroom door so as not to wake my wife. I lumbered down the hall to the living room. In my head, I could here my wife's voice...."Pick up your feet...your shuffling like an old man." It always made me laugh when she said such things. But tonight, I was feeling every one of my years.
Moonlight through the curtains invited me to step outside and join the night. I quietly unlocked the front door and stepped out into the darkness. Greene Street. I do love this community.

Twenty-nine years we have lived on Greene Street. My wife and I raised our sons here, as did my neighbors with their children. Time has a way of moving on and now Greene Street has become the street of grand parents and great grand parents. In other words, those of us who call Greene Street home have grown older and hopefully somewhat wiser. Didn't feel very wise tonight. Felt everyone of my sixty-one years. You know sometimes you tell yourself that age doesn't matter. As we like to say,"its is just a number, but tonight that "number"  covered me like an old overcoat. Too big, too worn out...and extra heavy.I was feeling the weight of 61 years to the max.

"How did I get to this place?" I asked myself. The world has changed and moved on, I have simply gotten older. I find that my thoughts have been passed on by younger more nimble minds. "Humph! Youth truly is wasted on the young." Even as those words came out in hushed tones, I knew all too well that I was feeling my age and I didn't like it one bit.
It was what it was and nothing was going to change it.

As I stood there mumbling in the dark, I heard the sound of footsteps on the street. "Who would be out this time of night....walking?" Slowly, deliberately, the steps came up from the direction of Case Avenue. As I felt a slight breeze stir, along with the steps I heard the sound of someone softly whistling. "What was that song?" I had heard it before. Very familiar.....what was that song?  Then I suddenly realized who was headed my way. The song? This Is My Father's World. A smile broke over my face and I felt a very familiar presence as the "visitor" stopped at the end of my drive way.

My first encounter with the "visitor" happened back in 1995. Thinkng back over the times I had met the "visitor" it seemed as though he only showed up when I was at my worst. I now know that to not be true, but it seemed like it at the time. Back in 95, I was contemplating ending it all....had it all planned out. The "visitor" came out of nowhere to sit on the bench next to me. Never saying a word, he sat there quiet, focused on feeding the ducks. Engaging me in what seemed like small talk, the "visitor" lovingly lead me to put away the foolishness of taking my own life. He gave me hope and the assurance that life was truly worth living. Now here he was walking up my street.

The whistling stopped as did the "visitor"...right in front of my house. He slowly turned and our eyes met. "How have you been?" He asked. I knew it was no use to lie to him, he already knew the answer. "You know, don't you?" I replied. "Sure I do...just wanted you to say it so you could hear it for yourself." I chuckled and moved my slppered foot back and forth over the Monkey grass at the edge of the driveway. "Good to see you," I replied. Wondered what happened since I last saw you."
"Lot's to take care of. People to see. Prayers to answer. You do know that I stop by your house from time to time to check up on you, don't you?" I wasn't sure but I had guessed as much. "I wanted to believe that you still kept tabs, but time has a way of changing the way a person thinks and feels." Looking at me with eyes that seem to peel away every hidden thing in my soul, he asked, "So are you struggling with getting older? Or are you just feeling sorry for yourself?" Suddenly I felt like a little boy who'd gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar."I guess I was feeling sorry for myself."

"Feel like you have no purpose or use do you?"
Embarrassed, I replied, "Yep! That's me."
"Feel like life is going by at a million miles a hour, and you're on a bicycle trying to keep up?" Once again...busted...I mumbled, "Yep! That's me."
"You're missing the point. The point is, my Father isn't finished with you. Didn't he make that clear last year when you had your heart attack? Remember how scared you were, lying there in that hospital bed? What did my Father do? He gave you a promise that came to you in Psalm 91.....remember what it said?" Of course I did, how could I forget.

My family had been with me and I had asked them to go home to rest, assuring them I would be alright. I lay there in that room with my thoughts and prayers, with the events of the day rolling around in my brain, wondering if this was going to be my last day or not. Taking my Bible out I looked for some comfort in the Scripture. Suddenly my eyes fell to Verse 16 of Psalm 91.....With long life I will satisfy him, and show him My salvation. I knew that this was God speaking to me, telling me that He had me and my time wasn't up....yet. I remember the flood of peace that came over my thoughts, my mind and my body. The worry and fear that was trying to take me vanished like mist in a morning sun.
I was going to be o.k.

The "visitor" walked up my drive way and stood next me, placing his arm around my shoulder. "Your time isn't up and you still have much to do for the Kingdom." As he spoke those words, my mind was suddenly flooded with the faces of people that still needed to hear the good news that there was hope for those in sin/addiction. It was as if I could hear every voice of every person in our town, crying out to God for help. Voices of desperation filled my mind and heart. "Oh God, if you are really there...." "Jesus! Help me!"......" "I can't go on....I'm going to end it all..." Vocie after voice rose up inside my thoughts. 
It was more than I could bear....I almost crumbled to my knees, but stronger hands than mine lifted me up. "How do you do it? I asked. "How do you deal with all the pain and hurt..the depression and the darkness that seems to be mounting at every turn?" The "visitor" leaned into me and whispered...."One life at a time!" It suddenly dawned on me that those of us who claimed to be believers or followers of the "visitor"....are truly his arms, legs and voices that reach out to those in need. Smiling, the "visitor" looked deep into my eyes and said, "There is no age limit in my Father's kingdom. You are needed and commissioned to tell others about the love and salvation available to all those who are crying out. My Father will give you the strength and the wisdom needed to carry out such a task."

As I stood there, I was made painfully aware that I had allowed my focus to be drawn to things that didn't really matter. I had allowed myself to become the center of my own little world.So what if I'm not "with it" or "hip" or whatever term young people use today. I have a story to share.
It's more than words.....
It is a Power that can actually change a person's life. A Power that has a name...Jesus Christ.
And me......
The man who is sixty-one years old....
Grand Father.....
Husband......
Has been entrusted with the keys to the Kingdom of God.
"Who knows. Maybe I can put down my story on the Internet. Maybe in a blog. What would I call it? Would anyone read it?" Too many questions were coming too fast now. The "visitor" broke into laughter...."Easy does it. It will come. Be patient"
"So you think I could write something that might make a difference, do you? How 'bout I call it The Greene Street Letters?" The "visitor" had slowly made his way out to the street, when he turned around.
Tilting his head at a slight angle, he smiled....."I like that....The Greene Street Letters."
As I stood there renewed and once again filled with hope....the steps of the "visitor" grew faint as he moved out into the darkness. But I could hear the words lifting on a night breeze as he sang....."This is my Fathers world...and to my listening ears....all nature sings and around me rings...the music of the spheres."

It is HIS world.
I am a part of it, and I have a story to tell.....

God on you....
mb
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Back in 1994 when The Greene Street Letters was first being formulated and sent out, I began to write about THE "Visitor". I haven't visited this particular place in a while and felt lead to update the story. I hope that you enjoyed it.
Michael Bynum