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There is a man who frequents the coffee shop I worked at in Eau Claire. For the sake of privacy, I'll refer to him as Pete.

One Saturday this past summer Pete came in and I didn't have to ask if his heart was heavy, because his eyes said it all. As an attempt to distract, I offered his usual. While he solemnly nodded his head - biting his lip as he forced a smile - I whispered asking God for the strength to meet him in the middle of his pain. As I made his sandwich he reminded me of the fact that he stops by to get a bite to eat on his way to the cemetery, to see his wife's grave, (who passed three years ago). Acknowledging that I heard him, I thanked him for choosing to come; chuckling in agreement that he wasn't going to find a better lunch in town. While his sandwich cooked, I came back around the counter to hand him a drink when he asked if I'd like to see a picture of his wife... I readily agreed.

Pete came back from his car, slowly - (he's almost 90 after all); and as he set her picture on the counter, the wrinkles on his face became a sort of pinball course for the tears wetting the collar of his shirt. Attempting to offer comfort, I asked where he met such a beautiful gal. His face lit up and his eyes seemed to enter a past realm as he vividly described the way he had come back from war and saw her dancing at a school dance. He reminisced about the way he confidently looked her in the eye and said "you know, I'm guna' marry you"... going on to say "and two years later, she said yes"! He laughed, sighed, and cried as he reminisced some of the moments they'd shared.

I share this story today because I didn't realize then what I was learning. I was merely a listener; yet my ears offered consoling that I can't explain. This semester has been one in which so many of the relationships in my life have been marked by trying situations; people I walk with daily are seemingly battling the weight of life. In the midst of this, I'm learning the value of meeting them in their muck. I'm realizing the importance of simply sharing life as Romans 12* paints it. I have less answers to offer, but a softened heart. I can't promise to take away all their hurt, fear, or trials - but I can share with them the love of my Jesus. As I rediscover the power of a person's story, I'm embracing the intimacy that comes with transparency and displacement. I'm reminded this season that I have but scratched the surface in living the truth that it's simply not about me.




*Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep. 16 Live in harmony with each other. Don’t be too proud to enjoy the company of ordinary people. And don’t think you know it all!" -Romans 12:15-16 (NLT)