He whispered the barely audible invitation to come over for a feast, not all could hear it, there was a question about it, but it was undoubtedly an invitation to come over. He did not give any address or direction. It was left to me to figure out where I was going and how to get there. My only navigational tool was the undeniable magnetic pull. I followed the pull in the same manner that the wise men followed the stars to find baby Jesus, I had to listen and feel my way to his destination. I got lost a few times just like when I follow the temperamental sat nav in my car, I was told I had ‘reached my destination’ when in actuality I was in the middle of nowhere. I was tempted to abandon the trip a few times but the erratic ‘pull’ was there. Atimes barely noticeable, other times intense. I was at the mercy of the elements as I search for my destination. I got beaten by the rain, I had no umbrella or shelter, unprepared I got socking wet, I got snowed under, I was shivering and caught a cold. Another time I got heat stroke from the scotching sun. Today I woke up to continue my search for his place, I was worse for wear, totally exhausted. Having exhausted my mental and emotional reserve for the journey I stopped at a lay-by unsure how to proceed.
A stranger saw me, he felt my distress, heard my rumbling tummy, noticed my parched throat, worn shoes and tattered coat. He opened his bag and gave me a morsel of bread, a small bottle of water, took off his coat to drape over my tired and cold shoulders, he didn’t have spare shoes so I kept my worn shoes on. The meagre refreshment and kind gesture allowed me to get back on track and continue my journey. Today I found it, I found his place and what a feast he had laid out for me! Like a mother forgetting the pain leading to birth as she catches a glimpse of her new born child for the first time. I forget all the trial of the journey, I was so glad to see him and the feast. He was equally glad to see me. He took me by the hand and led me to the table, he pulled out a chair for me and took off my coat. As he went to hang the coat he noticed the name tag and at the same time the remaining crumbs of bread fell out of the coat pocket. He was shocked and disturbed. He couldn’t understand why I would settle for crumbs along the way and wear a stranger’s coat when he had laid a feast for me and had a closet full of clothes for me to wear. I explained that the journey was long and difficult, without the stranger’s comfort I could not have made it to him. It happened before the arrival. He is destabilised and processing. I am also processing.
How do we make the journey of life without the support and comfort of the stranger along the way? Simply impossible.
Beautiful Ivory 