The Word Made Flesh (My Writer’s Retreat at Laity Lodge)

There’s this thing that happens when you meet someone for the first time in person, after having known them as a blogger. I don’t know what to call it, those few hazy minutes when this blog imago is being transformed right before your eyes into a living, moving, human being. Some kind of skeptical guardedness hovers over you for a few minutes, like a light fog. Its’ a little strange.

Upon first sight of this blogger friend, you immediately notice the physical characteristics, compared to what was in your head – this person is slightly taller, or maybe a lot taller than you expected. Or skinnier than your imagination had contrived. Or you see those eyes – can they really be so blue?

You take it all in, on the sly, like singing a song you haven’t learned the words to yet. But you act like it’s no big deal. You do this all the time, you tell yourself, meeting up with your blogging friends like this. But that’s not really true, so you’re feeling a little awkward. And afraid. You wonder what they think about you. Am I different than what they imagined? Skinnier? Younger-looking, I hope? Am I smiling enough? Am I acceptable? I hope they like me. 

Then they start speaking, and this voice is different from reading their post, or commenting, or pushing the “like’ button. Words bellow forth from these bodies; and laughter, and jokes and questions about your trip. You are moving towards them, getting a little closer, sliding in. And you begin to let it sink in, the physics of the whole thing.

There is nothing to worry about. You have known these people all along. But it’s strange, going from online to real life. Are we still friends in this new format, of breath to breath? Were we ever really friends? I hope it wasn’t all just a stupid game I made up in my head.

You go along with them, answering their questions, saying hello, laughing at the jokes, trying to navigate this new reality.

And then this person reaches out and hugs you. You hug them back.

And it dawns on you that this encounter is surely the embodiment of the digital image you have been dealing with. Here is someone who has warm flesh and hair that gets in your face, who hurts and prays, and who occassionally uses the toilet. Who offers a tight embrace.

The word is made flesh.

And within, I’d say, six minutes, the transitory guard is dissolved, dissipating all around you like dust shaken from a rug. Soon you come to realize that these people were your friends all along. Nothing has changed, except now you are placing your hand on their shoulder, or giving them a fist bump, or sharing your bread at dinner.

And the hugs are like souveneirs you take with you, that will last for a very long time.

Last weekend I met for the first time the other bloggers of the High Calling editorial team for a writer’s retreat at Laity Lodge retreat center in Texas. It was inspiring, memorable, incredible. The photo above was taken from the top of the canyon overlooking the Frio River, where the lodge is based. Wish you were there.