It was a designed plan for the men at my table and the men at the weekend. Their stories, experiences and backgrounds were all factors that led to a re-examination of their lives and where they are going. The walk is not to "convert" people in a non-believer/believer capacity. It builds Christian leaders. These people "know" God, but maybe are stuck on what being a real Christian man means. And of course, many of us men were raised by fathers who sometimes thought they knew all about God too. That's always a revelation for me, to see the differences and people's pasts line up so perfectly. The man that grew up with deacons and preachers has the same issues as someone who grew up in a rough neighborhood and whose dad doled out punishments on the whips of his belt. The burned-out pastor relates to the burned-out dad, or the burned-out volunteer who never sees the light at the end of the tunnel. Most importantly, we find that these men all share the longing of having a loving relationship with their true father!
And when you place a group of men together for a weekend and devoid them of cell phones and outside entertainment, we turn into silly boys. I still attend that while I can laugh and have a good time in a room all by myself, I never laugh so much as when I attend these walks. And on top of all that, there's no feeling of having to be foul for foul's sake. Or to have the dirtiest joke, or to have it involve some girl we are vying for the affections of. To me, this is true freedom. And while I do find myself lowering myself to the lowest denominator at times, it's these weekends that remind me that I don't need and nor should I value the world's entertainment. And maybe that's what Christians have it all wrong. Are we not representing the joy of freedom or do we not know it? Why don't we manifest the love of being a father, or the love of living a life not bound by addictions, perceptions or expectations. Or are we so committed to seeing everyone we know in heaven that we stumble and trample our way into other's lives instead of making it a genuine longing? I don't have those answers, and at times I've been more reluctant to blare the good news. Maybe this is a time to end those doubts and fears.
There was a pilgrim this weekend whose actions and words were sometimes made him more outwardly visible that some of the others. He was either off-key with singing, or started the verse too soon, clapping off kilter. This is what we must look like to the outside world. We look off-kilter. We smile too much, we don't complain. We're the people that run down escalators and ride backwards in the elevators. When we dance we seem to be dancing to a different song than what is being played. I look at my new friends and Christian brothers and I can't imagine them any other way. I hear about some who found their faith later and drug addictions or years of abuse and I look at them now and see none of those struggles on their faces, or the lines on their eyes. Do they know that I am inspired to be better just by being around them?
And I literally got that chance this weekend. In my rush to get myself dressed for my talk on Sunday, and with being nervous, I accidentally wore another man's shoes when I walked up to that podium. I didn't notice that they were slightly worn. I didn't notice that they weren't as shiny as the new ones I had purchased just for this very day. They fit. They fit perfectly. I went up on that stage and delivered a message 36 years in the making, all with the help of another man's shoes. God sure speaks to you in the ways he wants to, right?
So I'll be looking for some more shoes to fill over the next few days. It's the least I can do. In-action is not a response to the grace I have been given. So whose shoes will they be? I'm looking forward to finding out.
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