the body is a house of many windows: there we all sit, showing ourselves and crying on the passers-by to come and love us.
`robert louis stevenson~
as a creature of habit, i tend to see the same people around the same location on my running route [when i make it out there]. there is this one man especially whose appearance on my route was so dependable he might as well have had the physical permanency of a tree or lamp post. there was no major exchange between us, but there was a clear acknowledgement that we were used to seeing one another on our routes, expected it. just a head nod, a half-wave 'hello.'
but the past few weeks, i haven't seen him. i have started to wonder, forming all sorts of theories: is he sick? did he get injured? has he moved? i never knew his name.
and i began to think about how we are given a certain amount of time in everyone's life that we meet: sometimes mere seconds other times a lifetime. but in all cases, we are mere passerbys. in terms of eternity, [a perspective only God has, something we can only hint at conceptualizing in poetry and art], time on earth is a drop in the ocean ['a bucket' is simply too small].
i find myself often thinking that when i know a relationship or acquaintance-ship will be brief, that my actions 'don't count.' even with friendships i will retain long term i often am not actively engaged in seeking to see how the Spirit is prompting me to dig in deeper. however, every path crossing with another individual is a chance for God to use you as a source of His love in their life. who are we to underestimate the way God can use something as simple and momentary as a nod or half-wave hello? and if something so simple blessed my mornings as they did, then how much more profound can a soul-sharing conversation or mutually-bearing-of-a-burden be?
we all leave ripples in our wake. it is the design of our movements, how we choose to invest our time, invest in others, that determine their shape.