Do not pass GO and other adventures on the way Somewhere

Have you ever played Monopoly and gotten the chance card that says, "Go directly to jail. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200."? 

When I think of my life, sometimes I live my life like a Monopoly game. I wake up, go to work, rush home, get the kids to bed, collapse into my bed at night, and start all over again. Coincidentally, I once found a piece of paper that Llewelyn had written on that said, "Wake up, get dressed, go to school, eat dinner, go to bed, and do it again and again and again and again and again...." (I know, it's sort of depressing to read this coming from a 6-year-old, but who knows maybe she was simply stating that her life and routines fall into a structured and regular pattern.)

As a typical New Yorker I have the New York stride and "I'm going somewhere extremely urgent" mentality propelling me forward with eyes narrowed and focused solely on my destination, as if going to the corner store to buy a carton of eggs was the most crucial event of the day. Unfortunately, this often means ignoring other people along the way, which we New Yorkers are so good at. Man with a tall pink mohawk...no problem. Strange man in a suit yelling at a bench....no problem...just move farther away as you pass by.

But, what if God wants me to stop? What if he has a divine appointment in mind for me, but I'm so focused on my own agenda that I don't hear him, let alone see other people along the way?

A couple of days ago I blogged about the verse, "Remain in Me." from John 15 and talked about remaining being a conscious effort on our part to ask Jesus along for the ride. So, as I was rushing off to a meeting this morning, I thought of this as I was riding the E train into Manhattan and decided that I needed to put my ruminations into practice. "Yes, Jesus, come along with me to my meeting", I silently prayed.

I was walking out of the meeting towards the subway, usual New York stride and "I'm going somewhere extremely urgent" mentality, when I passed someone I recognized on the street. I actually slowed down about 20 feet after I passed him and debated whether I should approach him. You see, it was a homeless man that Jonathan and I used to know from way back during our days as graduate students at Columbia. There he was standing at the street corner, a 6'1 or 6'2 African-American man who was sometimes sober and sometimes not. He looked thinner and cleaner than I remembered him. I remembered how he used to greet us with a deep rumbling, "Hey Baby" when we handed him one or two bucks so he could buy some food. After standing there pondering all of these thoughts, which probably amounted to a few seconds, I finally uttered a silent prayer, "Should I go talk to him, God?". I heard, "YES."

As I approached our old friend, I said, "Hi. How are you? Do you remember me? My husband and I used to see you all the time when we lived here. It's probably been like 9 or 10 years since I've seen you. How have you been?" He didn't seem to recognize me, but said he was doing fine. When asked about what he's been up to since I last saw him and whether he's been working, he said, "Well I'm in a program to help me get my life back together again." We continued to chit chat a few more minutes. I'm not exactly sure what compelled me to ask him, but I asked him if he is a Christian and he said he is. When I finally thought to ask him his name before we said our goodbyes, it was like hearing the name of someone you used to know and all the bits and pieces of those memories coming together. Kenny.

As I walked away from Kenny, I felt so much joy in speaking with him and hearing about his life. I don't know the reason God wanted me to stop and talk to Kenny. But what I do know is, asking Jesus along for the ride today was the most God-filled joyful adventure I've had in a long time!