The Message Down Under - Anderson, South Carolina 8-13-12

I wonder about what I’ve just done, committing to chopping out months of my familiar life and exporting it to a land unknown to me. A time-worn truism says we don’t value something until we no longer have it. Planning a long journey to the other side of the world is as much mental as physical. Hopefully this one will be especially spiritual in nature. The world isn’t in compelling need of more tourists; it desperately needs more pilgrims and students.

While out at sunrise today, walking a couple of miles with my camera, I saw several of my favorite people in the world. Not so long after, I had opportunity to reach into an old man’s soul and offer him Hope in a hopeless circumstance. A thought crossed my awareness – these are the kinds of encounters making a place truly home. Hours later on the other side of town I had similar encounters. Then I thought of an old man ten thousand miles from here who needs to have Hope offered in a hopeless circumstance, a man I’ve never met. Going is the next right thing for me.

It occurs to me I will have a better arriving there if I have a better leaving from here. Leaving here in harmony with those who people my own world will allow me harmony with those who live beyond the sunset. Having a state of contentment better prepares me for the learning before me in a distant land. Pragmatic stuff ... do I really want to forego the entire happy autumn/holiday season this year to journey to a distant land I’ve never visited? Do I want to give up the twenty phone calls a day I receive? Having my own space to do in as I wish? Let my mail collect for months? Wonder if the pipes will freeze during winter? I’m reminded of an inspirational poster declaring, “One must leave the safety of the harbor if he wants to get anywhere,” leave the safety of the familiar. Going is the next right thing for me.

It’s presumptuous to think I have anything new of value to tell an old man I’ve never met, never even talked to. Perhaps the value derives from going to any lengths to deliver the message down under. It’s certainly easier to fire off an e-mail or make a phone call. You don’t propose on the phone. You don’t give prognoses by e-mail. Some things require suiting up and showing up, hand delivering the message. I’m not fully clear on the message, trusting it will clarify in route, having nothing but time for this to occur.

This dear old man just buried his centenarian father yesterday in another far distant land. Despite his perilous condition he managed eight hours of flight with his wife and daughter to say farewell to a very old soul. What can I possibly have to say or do to a family of four generations? From my perspective, not a thing. We are told faith is the substance of things not yet seen. Going is the next right thing for me.

Three years ago British Airways asked me to write down why it’s better to meet face-to-face than fire off e-mail or make phone calls, why it’s better to suit up and show up. The obvious intent was to create rationale for filling very expensive business and first-class seats on airplanes. My three hundred fifty four words in three untitled paragraphs must have struck a chord somewhere in a London blue glass office tower. I was summoned shortly, by e-mail, to London in one of those first class seats and then told I could go anywhere on earth at no expense after a couple of days of meetings. I can only hope and pray this face-to-face encounter down under will produce a far more eternal result than even the one in London.

I wonder what I will miss in going. I wonder what I would miss by not going. A still small voice says staying is good while reiterating that going is far better. Today I was told emphatically by a long-time friend every conception and idea I have of this distant land I’m going to will be exceeded. I’m instantly reminded of the promise, “Eyes have not seen, ears have not heard, the hearts of men have not even imagined the things I have prepared for you.” My imagination runs wild. All in good time; anticipation is nearly as delicious as reality.

Someday I’m going to have the ultimate face-to-face encounter, far beyond the reach of jet travel. I can only hope upon arrival I will hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant, dinner will soon be served.” Going is the next right thing for me.

Think I will go out and mow the grass at last light.

Blessings,

Craig C. Johnson