Travel journaling with my Friend who doesn’t art journal…
I just got done reading Tea with Hezbollah by Ted Dekker & Carl Medearis. Ted recounts their trip to the countries and religions of Middle East to have tea with the various people there, to find out what they think of Jesus’ parable “The Good Samaritan”. It is quite thought provoking and strikes at the heart of our common humanity and need for understanding. I love the quote by one of the men interviewed, Sami Awad, a man akin to Ghandi in his work of peace in a violent world. He says, “To heal someone, you must meet them where they are, you see? This was what the Good Samaritan did. We serve them by understanding them and speaking to them in love, not by shooting at them.” I highly recommend this book.
Reading books like that remind me that we all make a difference in this world, one way or another. That reminded me of a lesson Bob taught me this summer:
When I first met Bob he handed me a card that said he was mute. He drives a wheel chair. He doesn’t’ have full use of his limbs, but his one arm and hand work – so does his face. He radiates joy. When I see him “out for a walk” I see color dancing with him.
Today he waved from across the street while I was watering the front yard. I walked across to say “hi’. I asked him how he was feeling noticing his arm in a sling. He smiled, shrugged, and lifted his right arm slightly with his other hand and let it drop like dead weight. I said I was so sorry and marveled that he was still going out and about as usual. We looked at each other and I said, “Bob, you give me such courage,” and I put my hand on his shoulder. He took my hand in his usable one and gently kissed it, his eyes misted with tears. Mine did too. “God bless you Bob.” And he said, “God bless you too.” I heard it clearly though I can’t explain it. He blessed me. Bob has made a difference in my life, and other people’s too. God uses Bob to bless us with joy and gratitude for the little things. I never want to forget Bob or the joy and lessons he’s teaches living life to its fullest. I think we will be dancing in heaven together on the same street one day. At least I like to think so. I want to be more like Bob.