The Visitor

Sleep was a rare commodity that night, and was nowhere to be found. I finally gave in and got up from my bed. Slipping on some shorts and my tennis shoes, I made my way down the hall, after quietly closing the bedroom door where my wife lay sleeping. 

I could not turn my mind off as thought after thought chased each other.
Have you ever had one of those moments in time where you felt your age? Let me clarify that last statement. Have you ever had a moment in time where you felt your age + ten more years. I was having such a  moment. Body ached. Mind was racing. Didn't seem to have any answers to all the darkness around me, and for the first time........I felt old. Not just a measure of years, but the weight of time and distance covered since my birth seem to overwhelm me. Such thoughts are not the ones a young man has. I felt a laugh rising up in me as a thought crossed my mind. "Do you think Moses or Methuselah ever felt like this?"

I stepped out onto my porch to the sound of a gentle rain and the coolness that had wrapped the night. Greene Street. Same old street. How many times had I driven up and down this bit of our life? More than I could count. After all, we'd lived here for 31 years. Saw my sons ride their bikes with the neighborhood gang, up and down ol' Greene Street. Fourth of July would find us shooting bottle rockets out in front of the house. Greene Street itself had now become the street where grandparents lived. A Street where grandchildren come to see Poppa and Ammie. Once again each fleeting memory of life here on Greene Street seem to weigh me down with the hard truth of my age. Now don't get me wrong. I'm not over the hill yet, nor am I ready to turn in my card that states I'm a member of the human race. But on this night, maybe I saw life a little clearer. Maybe I saw death in a different light. And between the two, life and death, I had a couple of million questions that had no answers. 

It was then that I heard that familiar song. It seemed to be all around me, without any definite direction that you could point to. How many years had it been? 20...30....I couldn't remember. The words were soft and low and seem to fill the night with hope. A smile slowly formed on my face. "This is my Father's world....and to the listening ear....all nature sings...and around me rings....the music of the spheres."  Then I saw Him.  Stepping out of the shadows, he slowly made his way up my driveway. He had not changed one bit since the last time we met. "Hello Michael," He said. "I thought maybe we needed to talk. Seems you're having a crisis of faith, aren't you." I really didn't want to admit that I was, but how can you deny something that is the truth. "I guess I'm just feeling my years tonight." 

As we stood there, a great peace came over me. I still had the questions that seem to have no answers, but all of that seem to slide into another slot. What really mattered at that particular moment was just being with Him. 
"I feel like someone lied to me," I said, sounding like some little child that had found out Santa was not who he thought he was. "How so?" asked the Visitor. "Well, I thought that after a certain age, you got to slow down. Life became simpler and you had time to do some things that you wanted to do."
"Oh, you mean retirement?" the visitor chuckled as a laugh half fell from His lips. "Well, yes...I guess I did mean retirement."  Tilting His head, the Visitor asked, "Who are you listening to, Michael? My Father........or the voice of the world?" I knew the answer all to well. I wanted to say that life isn't fair, but I knew better that to pull that card. After all, during a whining session of feeling sorry for myself, God had reminded that life wasn't fair. That if life WAS fair, then He would have never had to sent His Son to die as payment for my sins. 

The Visitor made His way up to the porch, stood beside me and slowly draped his arm around me. "You know, Michael, one of the greatest gifts my Father gives is wisdom. Funny part in all of this thing called life is that wisdom usually doesn't come into play until the later part of your years. When you're young, your all vim and vigor. You've got energy and you seemingly accomplish the impossible. But youth does not appreciate the lessons learned. I don't think anyone does. But as the years roll by and the wisdom comes, you see life in a different way." Sounding like a smart mouth (and forgetting who I was talking to) I shot back....."Yeah, bout the time I get all this wisdom, I'm too tired to use it. Sorry...I didn't mean it like that." "No problem...you were speaking from your flesh and not your heart." That one stung and I knew it to be truth. Lesson learned. Think before you speak. 

The Visitor turned and looked me squarely in the eyes. "I want you to understand this one thing......age is merely a measurement of the body. You possess an eternal spirit, and it needs to be exercised. Let the Spirit of my Father work in you so that you can finish what He has given to you. You've got a wife that needs you. You've got sons and daughters in law to be an adviser too. Your grandchildren need your memories and guidance. You do realize that the world they are inheriting is a far cry from the one your father left you, don't you?" 

The Visitor went on to tell me that far too many of those who are "seasoned" are not actively making their wisdom available. "Yeah, but sometimes young people don't want to hear what I might have to share." "I know that," the Visitor replied. "Did you when you were their age?" Suddenly my mind was flooded with images of my growing up years and all the people who tried to speak life to me. Funny part is, the older I got the more I appreciated those folks. Suddenly I understood. The lessons were like seeds. Hard to appreciate seeds. Much easier to appreciate the fruit that comes later. "I get it."

I don't know how long we stood there on that front porch. Time seemed to not matter. "Well, I guess I better be moseying along." I laughed as I thought to myself...imagine...Him using the word "Mosey"...He caught my thought in mid flight and laughed..."I will always be there, no matter how old you feel," he said, with a voice that was filled with resolve and truth. "Thanks. I am grateful for all that you have given to me and my family." The Visitor looked at me with eyes that radiated love. "Know that I will never leave you or forsake you. You can count on that." I knew this to be true.

Slowly He turned and strolled out to the end of the my drive way. Standing there for a moment, as if to be listening for directions, he turned and started off into the darkness. Once again the night was filled with the sound and the words...."This is My Father's world......"

I stood there listening until I could no longer hear the audible voice and song. Yet, in my heart, the song continued and there was great comfort that had replaced the pity I was feeling for myself. Turning my eyes to heaven, I softly said, "Thank you, Father."

God on you...
mb


The visitor was something I started in the Greene Street Letters back in the 90's, and from time to time have felt the need to revisit Him.