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It's going to be alright!I was seated in the airport waiting lounge preparing for a flight South. Engrossed in an intriguing news article, my solace was interrupted. "You might as well get it off your chest!" The words couldn't be meant for me I reasoned, but when I looked up, the stranger was looking at me intently. "Excuse me," I said. "Are you speaking to me?" "Yes, I said you may as well get it off your chest." I certainly didn't intend to indulge the stranger who had disturbed what, to that moment, had been an uneventful trip. I returned to reading my newspaper, with no further comment. Solace resumed; the stranger spoke no further. "You know you're upset; just get it out of your system," the stranger began again. "I'm afraid I don't know you, perhaps you have me confused with someone else," I said, hoping this would end what was becoming a bit annoying. "Oh I know you, alright, Bishop White, as I believe you prefer to be addressed!" I was utterly stunned with this last remark. Now I put my mind in action. Wondering in which conference I may have met the stranger -- South Indiana or North. Which congregation? Had we met at a meeting? Perhaps a special worship service? Nothing was registering. Then I quietly shifted gears emotionally and became offended at the evasion of space -- physical and emotional. Who was this stranger to speak to me in such an intimate manner. "Get it off my chest," were the words. Not on your life! Whatever the point of reference, and I was still uncertain, would not be a point of discussion with this stranger. Indeed one guards closely, even with those known more intimately, certain sections of the soul. Then the stranger called my name, "Woodie." There are so many ways your name can be called. Casually, with endearment or disgust or disdain. This was different. This was special. It was like the calling of your name by a parent. No one can quite call your name like a parent. Or a spouse! It is both special and inexplicable. I looked -- and I knew! This was no stranger, for the "stranger" called my name! So in a crowded, busy, noisy airport terminal, I got it off my chest. So much. It came like a flood -- almost non-stop. Even the "stuff" I had buried deep, tried to ignore, even the "I don't cares," and the "it doesn't bother me," they were still there, perhaps in some holding pattern. Oh, I had no idea how much was "there." Off my chest! Much more than that. From my spirit, out of my psyche, from the corners of my soul it came. Now I was embarrassed, and felt so utterly vulnerable. Exposed. Then the soothing assurance. The stranger said, "That's okay. I can handle it. I'll take care of it. It's going to be alright!" Then I felt something, like a foot. It was a foot. I turned and there was Kim, asleep. I was not in the airport, I was in my bed. I was weeping and wet with perspiration. I closed my eyes. But I distinctly heard the words, It's going to be alright! Last updated on 01/14/2004 |
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