Make us glad for as many days as you
have afflicted us. Psalm 90:15
So yesterday I got tangled up in the complexities and
cares of the world.
Rat a tat tat all day long. But I rode my bike to work to
make darn sure that I would be happy at least a few moments in what was
promising to be a tottering tower of blocks.
And when I escaped the craziness of the day and the
District and mind-boggling onslaught of minutiae at last and slid out of
Bonillas Traditional Elementary Magnet School and unlocked my bicycle from the
doorstep, I found that it had a flat flat flat, as in rhyming with rat a tat
tat, tire. So flat that even I the eternal optimist knew I could not ride it
home.
I tried hunting up a ball pump at school, but anyone the
slightest bit helpful had either left or was in yet another meeting, so I
started walking home, feeling just a little more than sorry for myself. And
feeling alone, very alone.
But the crosswalk guard who always salutes me with a
cheery, “Que le vaya bien, maestro,” at least agreed with me that no way could
I ride my bike home, and the best thing would be to take the bus and it is very
important to be exactly at the bus stop. So I stood there in the sun. For a
pretty long while. Sigh.
I gotta admit, though, the bus driver was kind and helped
me load up my bike on the front rack, and even though I couldn’t get a transfer
slip, he thought the next driver might let me slide. And then later he called
me up, and said if I wasn’t in a hurry he would be driving this bus downtown at
4:30, and I wouldn’t have to transfer at all. But, no, I was hosting a
gathering of Intake folks at San Augustin Market in less than 30 minutes and
needed to be on my way, but thank you. But the next bus driver said no, I
really needed to have a GoPass card, but that was okay. I always have lots of
single dollar bills in my wallet, in case someone asks me for money. So, no
problem. Really, I was slowly gaining a little perspective.
I looked around. I don’t do much bus travel. Actually, the
last time I rode the bus was when I had jury duty and I didn’t want to mess
around with downtown parking. That was a long time ago. Most everybody was
looking at their phones, except the very tired old man slumped across from me.
His socks and shoes were so very clean and bright I wondered about them, where
he got them from, like from Salvation Army or Northminster Clothing Bank.
And then another very weary couple pulled themselves up
onto the bus. And she was old and heavy and with a walker cart in the hot sun,
and I pretty much snapped out of my pity party at this point. Man, at least I
didn’t have to drag myself up and down awkward steps all day long with a cart full of bags.
And then she smiled at me. ”Having a hard day?” She
adjusted her swollen feet. “Don’t worry. We will get through things, one step
at a time. That’s what they say.” And she smiled encouragingly once more at me.
Alone? No way.
Man, It is so easy to forget the kindness and grace of
God’s children. The meek, the humble and those paddling amongst the flotsam and jetsam.
Thank You, Jesus, for reminding me of Your Presence. Your Presence in each image bearer.
And peace.
