Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Face Value

I saw a face today that I had not seen for many years...one I honestly did not recognize at first. Seemingly distorted or mutated it seemed, though on closer inspection I realized the same features were still there, just not the same life.

We were never close friends, more of acquaintances that had class together often my sophomore year of college, but I really liked him. A joking fellow he was, always making light of difficult assignments and easy the tension of a stressful situation. He married another student that shared his sarcastic wit and joking nature.

At one point after he graduated I bumped into him and hardly recognized him because he had lost so much weight, but in a healthy way. He and his wife looked happy and very much meant for each other.

Years later, I found out that he had left her. I'm sure there was probably problems on both sides— those sort of things usually work that way— but I never heard his side. All I heard was that he had left her, didn't want to reconcile, left the teaching job he had such a passion for and went back to a former life that must have come back to haunt him.

The face I saw today was not the one I had known. The weight had returned to his frame, but now an unkempt beard and long black hair mixed with gray pulled back by a band demanded my attention. Unkempt beards and long hair don't mean anything. They told me nothing specifically, but left hints that he didn't care anymore. Maybe her realized that he had completely blown something that was really special, and maybe he was quite fine with his decisions, living in his current state.

I followed him around for the better part of 10 minutes, praying that he was right with God, and wondering if he recognized this classmate from years ago remaining within sight. His nonchalant attitude seemed to express that he had no clue that someone who knew about a lingering pain in his heart was watching and praying. I wondered too if the Spirit of God didn't speak to him during my prayer.

I mourn for him and his situation, but more than that I feel fear. Fear stemming from the understanding that, despite our degrees, our money, our standing in other's eyes, we are not as strong as we think we are. I shake at the thought of life without the grace of God holding my face as it is, protecting me from that which longs to pull me into oblivion. Understanding that I am his makes the fear diminish, but the dull ache of sadness remains.

God be merciful to him.