There is something about the Christmas Season that causes me to reflect more so than any other time of year. Maybe it’s sheer proximity to the new year and all the resolutions we must make--and break. Maybe it’s the recognition that another year has passed and as human nature would have it, a personal accountability comes into play:
“What have I done with my time? Where did the year go?”
Ten years ago I assumed I would be completing my doctorate by now. Back then I would have been surprised to find myself presently married to an attractive city girl, I never planned on getting married until personal academia and my all-encompassing desires to discover the world had been mollified. I would have been surprised if ten years ago I saw myself owning a couple of houses, I never intended on living in the Phoenix metro this long. What I imagined ten years ago does not even resemble in the slightest, what my daily life holds now. I think most people can relate to that.
Ten years ago this Christmas I had saved up enough money during the semester to fly to Oklahoma for Christmas. Shortly before buying the ticket, I found out that a friend of mine had decided not to come back for her final semester at EAC because she did not have enough money for tuition. Since it was about the same amount as my plane ticket, I decided to anonymously pay her tuition with my savings and just stay in Thatcher for the whole Christmas break. I had planned on a white Christmas in Oklahoma, planned on spending time with my family, intended on a much needed change of scenery. Instead I found myself alone…several days before Christmas…and everyone, I mean EVERYONE, in Howard’s Trailer park had gone home.
Life has a way of taking us away from our plans. But I could not help think of the simple but profound advice given to me by my grandfather when I first went to college. He said,
“Be where you are suppose to be and things will tend to work themselves out, do what is right and let the consequences follow.”
I sure couldn't see the purpose in me spending the whole Christmas break alone but it seemed like the right thing to do. I would just walk to work and back, a different path each time to switch it up and smell the roses. Truth be told, I had this habit of plucking a miniature rose from various yards to give away on my way home. Since no one was in town, I'd put it on a shelf in a bedroom waiting for someone deserving to return, and this seemed to be my only purpose in the day. (Yes, I was a naive and hopeless romantic in those days.)
For the most part, a couple of slow boring weeks but Christmas Eve was brutal. I had the day off, the game room was closed, we could not afford cable in our apartment, and I was too restless to read. That’s when a stranger knocked on the door. He wanted to know if a friend of his, a girl that lived a few trailers down was in town. When I told him no, he was a bit discouraged.
He explained that he had thrown some of his belongings in his car and left the deep south in a hurry and did not have a chance to tell her that he was coming. In short order, I found he was one of the most interesting and funny people that I had ever met. Oddly though, he would stand up about every 5 minutes, start pacing, rub his forearms, fidget about, sit down and then repeat, but what an interesting character! We talked for hours, until 1 or 2am on Christmas morning. I could tell he was down on his luck and could not help but ask him if he needed a place to crash for the night. He declined, probably to avoid wearing out his welcome. I begged him to come by the next morning because I knew how depressing it would be opening all two of my presents that were set under the little tree. We hung out Christmas day for several hours, and the day after that. I am fairly certain he was sleeping in his car before he final started crashing on my living room floor.
We would stay up late and when the conversations would get religious or philosophical, he would become very intent and for a short time, he would hold very still, speak very solemnly with a gritty eloquence all his own, before going on with the quirky fidgeting.
Soon, everyone began returning to college. As he made new friends he started going to church with us, something he had not done in a while. After lining up a job and a place to stay, the normalcy helped him to settle down. When we baptized my roommate, this seemed to have a profound effect on him.
One day he confided in me. He told me that when he came out to AZ he was running from his old life, friends, and habits. When we met, he said he had just given up alcohol, cigarettes, huffing, and worst of all, heroin. He said if he had not made new friends when he showed up unannounced, he would not have known where to go and might have ended up in another state with friends that ran in rough crowds. Then he said he finally called his dad and told him where he was at and had a conversation the two had been hoping for in years. Half smiling and in a sheepish way, he pointed to his car and asked me if I wanted to meet his dad.
As I began walking over, his dad got out of the car and began quickly walking over to me. I started to introduce myself when he wrapped me up in a tight bear hug, tears forming in the corner of his eyes.
“Thank you… for being here for my son.”
I realized then that I had been in the right place. Like many people out there, today I find myself somewhere other than where I had previously planned on being. But there can be greater purposes at work. I may have not received that doctorate yet, I may still be living in the valley, and sometimes life and family responsibilities keep me from conquering the world. But that's okay, because I do strongly feel…I am where I need to be. This does not mean I have given in to a sense of resignation and I am just going to sit on the path choosen...after all, he who finds the right path and just sits on it will soon be ran over. I must walk it, because happiness is the journey, not the destination. There is a peace that comes from this knowledge that invites us to do what is right not knowing where the path may lead and let the consequences follow. And at the end of my years, when I return to report, I hope that God’s response is a tight bear hug and…
“Thank you…for being there for my children.”
Oh, And then if He can forgive me of all my student loans that I am about to incur and probably carry to my grave…that would be awesome too!!!
Merry Christmas Everyone...you might just be where you are suppose to be, so do some good while you are there!!!
Keagan thinks "Time to get your coat on" means "Wanna wrestle?!"
