I Can Hardly Wait For Tomorrow.

I saw Dan today on my lunchtime walk downtown.

But I wasn’t expecting to see him, at least, not like this. He was wearing a khaki blue uniform with a Wackenhut patch, a silver badge and a broad belt with various tools of the trade strapped on.

Photo courtesy of istanbulmike

“To serve and protect,” said the patch on his arm.

I was surprised because I first knew Dan as an amazing youth pastor, whose smile and heart won over kids. Then he started his own church plant, preaching passion from the pulpit as few others I’ve ever heard.

The story he told had a hint of sadness. The church had folded, thanks to unemployment that dried up the offerings of too many members. It started a death cycle. They couldn’t pay the rent, couldn’t pay the heat and certainly couldn’t pay the preacher.

So he walked around the outdoor shopping area scolding kids on bikes and eyeing vagrants who didn’t keep moving.

“This was all I could find,” he said.

I asked if he was ever going back to ministry.

He didn’t answer, disillusionment misting his eyes.

I wish I could have had the right words. But I had none as I wished him well.

I went back to my office, stopping by the bathroom to wash my face. When I lifted my eyes the mirror caught me. And then the nagging voice was right there, accusing me with the same tone of voice that no doubt Dan heard.

“What happened to you, David?”

I had a life of promise. I was young, smart, articulate and well liked. I had a happy family, a good job, friends and contenment. Then, one by one, those things were stripped away. Some went away because of my own apathy. Others are gone because of the shallowness of people. Others, I’m not so sure. Did I miss my purpose? Did I miss my moment?

Then these words, probably preached by Dan himself, grab me. “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.”

What promise!

I’m learning again about relationships, friendships and honesty. I’m finding my way. Rather than rail against the things that are gone, I need to praise the things that remain. I need to rejoice over the enduring care I have from friends and family and the grace-filled relationships of people who care for me and love me.

Like Dan, I’m walking a new beat. Together, we’ll tand tall and wear the uniform with pride. This is today, and it’s a glorious day.

I can hardly wait for tomorrow.

Please, share with a friend if you feel moved.
Read all past issues at http://www.patheos.com/blogs/davidrupert