Observing As We Journey




It was quite a journey this week. As with most journeys, the journey isn’t just one journey. Our journey is made up of different smaller journeys. Each day brings about a different journey. This week I want to share another side of my journeying. This week I want to talk about observing while on my journey. This week I had the opportunity to observe some pretty heavy journeying. While I wasn’t taking the heavy journeys, I had the chance to observe others on their journey. Here is just a glimpse of what I observed.

I visited with a lady who was journeying from a wheelchair. She has COPD, which I am all too familiar with on a family level. She didn’t have the breath to get up and walk around, but she did have the energy to smile, laugh, share some of her story and even sing with me. She didn’t want to at first, but when I told her I would sing with her, she agreed. I started and, like a director bringing in the choir, she joined in…loudly and with the energy that I could only imagine she once had all the time. I only knew one verse, but promised I would come back and we would sing again. It was good to see someone in such a confining situation journeying with a smile on her face.

The next day I talked on the phone with a lady whose journey had just about taken its toll on her. As soon as I started speaking with her, the emotion she was experiencing came out like an overflowing cup of water. The loss of her mother and a divorce was just about too much. She was shocked, but pleased, that I had called. She had called the suicide hotline twice, thinking that was the way out of her journey. She wasn’t going to do anything, she was just investigating. Still, I could tell the heaviness was getting to be too much for her. We talked a while, she cried some more. We talked about healthy goals, her mood lightened. By the end of the phone call she was feeling better. I could hear it in her voice. She was starting to be in control instead of letting the journey control her. A call the next day confirmed she was doing better. She could now journey with a little lighter step.

Finally, I observed a young man journeying in a courtroom. This was probably the hardest journey to observe. He looked about the age of my son. Neatly groomed with a collegiate appearance. I knew his story, yet I do not know where his journey will take him. I know where he’s been but have no idea where he is heading. I looked at his face. No emotion. I listened to the witnesses and looked again at his face. Still, no emotion. He just sat and stared ahead. There were times when he would write something on a piece of paper. However, like Jesus wrote in the sand, I am not sure what was written. He would lean to the side and talk with the man beside him, but I heard nothing. I thought about his journey and wondered what he was thinking. Unlike the woman in the wheelchair, there was no smile. Different than the woman on the phone, no emotion. His was probably the heaviest of journeys. Yet, there was nothing. Kind of sad. Actually, very sad.

My journeys this week were tiring, mentally. However, I’m glad my journeys took me to these places. I could have sat with the first lady all day. I felt relieved that the second lady was doing better. I still wonder what the young man was thinking. One thing that did happen this week is I had the chance to think about my own journey and realize how blessed I am to be able to journey and observe others on their journey. I encourage you to walk with your head up so you can observe others as they journey along with you. What you see may cause you to think, smile, laugh and maybe cry.  Your observations can share many different stories, whether they are told in full or not.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s