When I was a child, er... back when I was a much younger child my favorite show was Mr. Rogers. Didn't you love it when the camera panned over the little model neighborhood with it's houses and cars and streets. I used to imagine I lived in one of those houses and it was me who drove one of those little cars. Awesome. I loved the whole show, the coming in and changing the shoes (I wonder which pair he got buried in?) ,the sweater, the land of make believe. I wanted to ride the trolley and had a crush on Lady Aberlin. I thought Bob Dog was the stupidest character ever, Mr. Mcfeely probably drank too much coffee and Handyman Negri was aaallllright. The absolute, can't miss segment though was Picture-picture, you know where he'd put a roll of film behind the picture and we watched as he toured some factory and I was let in on the magic of how things were made. That was so cool and probably the root of my lottery fantasy: Take my winnings and travel the world and see how things are made. After I take care of the poor of course.
Have you ever started a conversation and you're telling a story and you get to a point and you realize you forgot where you were going with it? I think it just happened. Well...poo.
Let's try this... Last year was a really difficult year for me from start to finish with a few highlights here and there.........no. That's not where I was going either.
Ok, so it's a week later now and I may have stumbled into a thought. And it may even fit with the first paragraph. I was in church building this morning with everyone and we were singing this song " Whom Have I But You". Short song that goes like this: (1) Though the mountains fall, fall into the sea , (2) Though my colored dawn, may turn to shades of gray , (3) Though the questions asked, may never be resolved . With the chorus Whom have I but You sung between verses. A really nice song. I wished I believed it.
I was watching a couple of specials on TV this past week on Haiti . Hard to believe It's been a year since the earthquake especially if you look at pictures from then and now. Not much has changed. Still so much devastation and absolute poverty, tent cities and lines of people gathered behind a truck for food and water. I think I heard like 80% of the rubble still needs to be removed. Where is all the money and help that was promised? An easy question to ask and get outraged over but as with many things it's more complicated than it looks on paper. It's a sad, sad situation.
As I was watching the Haiti special and humming the Whom Have I song in the recesses of my brain, the though of the start of this blog wandered into my consciousness and it started to gel. My Dad speaks to me in the frantic whir of my mind. It's like He's juggling a 1000 pieces of a puzzle of my thoughts and He lets a few drop and say's "Here, put those together". I don't know, it sorta works. Then again, maybe I'm just a idiot.
So I live in this miniature model neighborhood not unlike Mr. Rogers'. It looks so real. It smells and feels so real. I like the fact it's nice and tidy and nothing bad happens there. It, for the most part is dependable and comfortable and I could live here forever. And I like that. Yep, a warm and fuzzy world. But it's make believe. As I was singing the words to the song "though the mountains fall, fall into the sea" this morning I thought of Haiti where their Mountains DID fall into the sea and killed so many. Their neighborhood (indeed, there neighbors too) were gone. It's like someone walks into Mr. Rogers studio after his death and tosses his model neighborhood in a dumpster. What was so real is revealed as...make believe.
What has made me smile and also made me grieve is the response of some of the Haitian people. They worshiped God. They thanked Him. They leaned on Him. They said "whom have I but you". I'm sure they were devastated, angry and hurting but in the end, whom have I but you. I pray they do find solace in the arms of their loving God.
Me? I'm not so sure I would. I really do like my make believe neighborhood. My American dream. I would hope I would say "whom have I but you" but it makes me sad that I even ponder this question. I love my Dad but of more value, He loves me. He is gracious and kind and has given me time to work this out which I hope I will continue until the day I walk hand in hand with Him into my new neighborhood, my real neighborhood, with streets of gold.
