Walking in the Shoes

Every day I make an effort to go toward what I don’t understand. ~Yoyo Ma


Photo by NG


We don't realize how much we live in our own heads until something happens and we need people. I have been extremely fortunate to have a small but strong network of faithful friends and be associated with a church during two life-changing tragedies in my life. I continue to be amazed at the outpouring of grace, love and kindnesses that divorce and death bring out in so many people.

I am in awe of these people who are so "other" conscious. Suddenly I am also hyper-aware of all the times people needed me in these situations, and how unable I was to assist them, until the experience befell me. I suppose because the emotional landscape was so foreign, I shied away.

Yoyo Ma's words hit that place in me today. Quite often, I am fearful of venturing into unknown territory. But I can tell you I'm getting better at it, and did it last week.

The daughter I gave up for adoption 23 years ago arrived with her mother at a recent social gathering. That was a shock unto itself. They kept a little to themselves, not in a rude way.They didn't know but a few people. So, not knowing protocol for such events, I brought sibs over and introduced them.

Later, when we were all getting our meals from the buffet line, I noticed that my daughter and her mother had settled in at a table with their plates of food. Alone. With my full plate, ready to resume my seat at a prechosen table, I felt a nudge--probably God. Maybe you know how He is...

These thoughts went through my mind.
"Go ask them to sit with your family." They looked happy. I didn't know if they'd want to move. (translate: I didn't want to ask, be declined and look stupid.)
My answer was, "But...."
"Go ask them," He insisted.Have you ever tried arguing with God? I have. Enough to know that there is a consequence for not heeding holy advice.

Here's a couple of things that could happen if I didn't go: I might drop my plate. All my food could slide into the salad dessing. I could trip and fall and splatter food on all the guests. Hard to not look stupid. Or even if I made it to the table and ate my food with out being struck by some mishap, there is the possibility of indigestion, or (and I'll offer no gruesome details for this) worse.

Are you kidding me? I always let Him win. When I arrived at their table, my prescence interrupted a conversation.
"Would you like to join us at our table?"
"We don't want to intrude..."
"You wouldn't be."

The next thing I know, they and my family are all enjoying a meal together. Emails get exchanged. We laughed together. We hugged.
And when we said goodbye, I felt somehow, I'd added to my network a few more wonderful people.