This is the first substantial bit of writing I’ve done in over a week. That’s unusual for me. I have a habit of writing every day. Many days, I only write to myself or to God, but I always write. For more than a week, my brain’s been too cloudy for me to assemble words. My brain is still cloudy, but I’ve grown weary of feeling outside myself, so this becomes my attempt to reaffirm my grasp on whatever excuse I ever had for reality.
If I told you that I sometimes hear with my eyes, would that make any sense to you? You may be more familiar with the sensation than you realize. When you sleep and dream, and there is music in your dream, or when there are other people in your dream, and these people are talking to you, how is it that you hear them? It is not with your ears, and not with your eyes–not exactly, but with some other sort of sight–a sight within your mind. There are days I feel like this sense becomes more heightened in me than it ought to be; even as I’m awake, and I see people scrambling about–moving impossibly fast; it’s as if every noise emitted by their movements and by the millions of words generated from their mouths and from those of their friends–it creates an audio wake, of sorts – a visible wake of sound, everywhere I look. Navigating the world becomes difficult for me, as I struggle to see through the noisy haze. To those unfortunate enough to live with me, I say, “I am dizzy”, but I use that description only as a shortcut, to save myself from the demand for further explanation. So, as I am walking, I may reach out and take hold of a table top, but I don’t do so to steady myself; I do it to remind myself that the table is there.
It’s been twelve days since I published THAT POST. Eleven and a half days since that post caught an express train all around the world, hauling thousands of passengers along for the ride. Nine days since the train finally slowed its pace. Seven days since the WordPress angels Freshly Pressed that post, refueling the express train and sending it around the world a few hundred more times.
For twelve days, I’ve been referred to as “great”, “heroic” and all degrees of “amazing”. I think the word “powerful” even came up at one point. This, for what? Because I knocked on a window. This strange experience has taught me something that I will endeavor to share.
Years ago, I listened to a recording of a sermon, and the preacher talked about good works.
He shared this passage in the Bible from Ephesians: “For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.”
I figured at the time that I understood the passage just fine. It seems straight-forward enough. Still, I think few of us get it. I’ve recently experienced what I believe is the embodiment of those words, and I’m still not sure I get it, and here’s why: I’m still anxious. I still wake up in the morning, unsure of what I ought to do with myself that day. If I knew and understood the weight of those words in Ephesians, I think I’d kick this confounded monkey off my back.
A friend of mine (that’s you, J.S.) said when she heard that I’d found a dead girl outside Starbucks, that I did this by being myself. A few days later, when I wrote about this girl, she said I was being myself again. I think my friend might get it, at least a little. “…good works…prepared beforehand…that we should walk in them.” If this is true–if God prepares the works for you, then you gotta be you if you’re going to walk in them. I don’t know about you, but I expend quite a lot of energy trying not to be me. Thankfully, I had my guard down the morning I found Sabrina Collins, because I was willing to be meddlesome so she could be found. Days later, my curious self–my agitated self, perplexed by the lack of attention afforded this dear girl, chose to suffuse my thoughts into something of a revelation–a bright, benefic luminary, fashioned to cast light upon the story of this girl and of her family. The results – beyond me.
It never was about me. It was about God, bringing people together, as he’s so prone to do. If you are looking for “amazing” and “powerful”, don’t look to me. I could never live up to words so big. Look above. Look above, and while you do so, be you, because the world needs you as you are.
From my heart, I thank each person who has shared in this story, and I pray for continued grace and mercy upon Sabrina’s family and friends.