My Name's Ray
''Do you know that man,'' he asked matter-of-factly as the usher made his way down the aisle. I looked back to watch him pass out the offering bowls.
''No, I don't,'' I replied, puzzled at his bold manner.
''His name is John. He cleans offices here at the church, and helps out with whatever he can. He's a good man.''
''How do you know that?'' I'm bewildered by this guy. Why is he sharing this with me? Who is he, and who is John? Why do I care? I've never even been to this church.
''Oh, I met him once,'' he shrugs.
Without anything remotely interesting to converse back with, I give him the common reoky I give everyone. ''Good deal.''
I sit there, in my magnetic turquoise chair, and listen to the man up front speak about living for Christ And Christ Alone. My mind wanders back to the stranger next to me. The stranger who sang loud, clapped incessantly, and laughed while worshipping Jesus. My brow furrowed while I wondered He must really love his Jesus. How's that work? I notice he is sitting awefully close to me for being in a whole other chair. I can hear him crying as an emotional video portrays the life of the Messiah. I don't cry. I watch it with a numb familiarity that I have come to hate.
The service comes to a close, and as I am second from the end, I have to wait for my all-knowing friend to exit before I do. He doesn't move. He stands in the row, facing forward.
''Excuse me,'' I say. ''I've got to get by.''
He disregards my polite request to leave, and extends his hand. ''My name's Ray.''
I had noticed the wedding band on his finger earlier, as I sat with wandering eyes and ears, and I wonder for perhaps the third time Who is this guy?
A bit hesitant, I shake his hand. ''I'm Dawn.''
''Nice to meet you,'' we say simultaneously. He laughs. I look away.
''Well, God bless you, Dawn.''
''Thank you, you too.''
And I ease past this new acquantance, pulling my cell phone out to see who's call I miss. For a reason unexplained, I stopped and looked back.
But he had already begun walking away.
This was the evening I experienced tonight. Once again I am reminded that my emotions seem to have stopped working. I don't cry, or laugh at things that tap other people's heart strings. Ray, whoever he is, has made my heart hurt for a reason I cannot explain.
''No, I don't,'' I replied, puzzled at his bold manner.
''His name is John. He cleans offices here at the church, and helps out with whatever he can. He's a good man.''
''How do you know that?'' I'm bewildered by this guy. Why is he sharing this with me? Who is he, and who is John? Why do I care? I've never even been to this church.
''Oh, I met him once,'' he shrugs.
Without anything remotely interesting to converse back with, I give him the common reoky I give everyone. ''Good deal.''
I sit there, in my magnetic turquoise chair, and listen to the man up front speak about living for Christ And Christ Alone. My mind wanders back to the stranger next to me. The stranger who sang loud, clapped incessantly, and laughed while worshipping Jesus. My brow furrowed while I wondered He must really love his Jesus. How's that work? I notice he is sitting awefully close to me for being in a whole other chair. I can hear him crying as an emotional video portrays the life of the Messiah. I don't cry. I watch it with a numb familiarity that I have come to hate.
The service comes to a close, and as I am second from the end, I have to wait for my all-knowing friend to exit before I do. He doesn't move. He stands in the row, facing forward.
''Excuse me,'' I say. ''I've got to get by.''
He disregards my polite request to leave, and extends his hand. ''My name's Ray.''
I had noticed the wedding band on his finger earlier, as I sat with wandering eyes and ears, and I wonder for perhaps the third time Who is this guy?
A bit hesitant, I shake his hand. ''I'm Dawn.''
''Nice to meet you,'' we say simultaneously. He laughs. I look away.
''Well, God bless you, Dawn.''
''Thank you, you too.''
And I ease past this new acquantance, pulling my cell phone out to see who's call I miss. For a reason unexplained, I stopped and looked back.
But he had already begun walking away.
This was the evening I experienced tonight. Once again I am reminded that my emotions seem to have stopped working. I don't cry, or laugh at things that tap other people's heart strings. Ray, whoever he is, has made my heart hurt for a reason I cannot explain.