Musings of a Prodigal Son - You Can’t Go Back

Two things happened this week. Well, more than two but two of enough significance that it prompted me to do some thinking. The first is I saw some old friends in Tennessee on vacation the other day that I have not seen in years. They sure looked older. As I am writing this, I know they probably thought the same thing when they saw me. I knew them at a time when my life was so much more acceptable and defined, my identity more established. My friendship with them was forged on both good times and bad. As the saying goes, steel sharpens steel. That would have been an adequate summation of our relationship. The ironic thing is that even though almost 20 years have past, my love for them is as fresh as when I saw them often and there was the recognized bond of friendship. When I saw them this time, there was an element of sadness. There was a bridge I could not cross. There was a gulf I could not breach. My Love remains as strong for them as ever. That is probably the reason that thinking about this is so painful. I longed for something just out of my reach.

You see, they were a part of my life when I was married to someone else. When I had another identity to them. Although I am the same person that they once knew in the core of my being, I have a different identity now. What they call me has even changed. I was once Bro. Rodney, now I am just Rodney to them. The subtle difference is not lost on me. I have also grown in many ways and changed. So have they. In truth, the person they knew is back somewhere on the road of experience. I so want to pick up where we left off. But we can't. All any of us can do is to embrace what we have in the moment. If we spent time together now, we could build something different. But it will never be the same. It can't be. Seeing people who you fought battles and shared life with after a long time can make  you want to go back. Not in every way but just back to that close relationship you had with friends. When you see them though, there is the realization of the fact that you can't go back. You can't be everything you were and neither can they. There is Joy but also sadness. The pieces of the puzzle do not fit. 

I believe that this is another consequence of our sin. I believe that the rare fire of friendship and fellowship in Christ closes the gap that life changes cause. We spend our lives diverging from each other as we sin. When we come face to face again with those relationships in this life that have transcended that barrier, we are keenly aware if the gap has developed since our last encounter. We see through a glass darkly, but we shall see Him as He is. Not just Him, but Him in us. You see, the thing that made the bond so strong with these friends was Christ. He never changed. I did. They did. He did not. The bond I miss is Him in them and they miss He in me.  I so miss the aspect of Christ that He allowed me to see in them. It is still there. I wanted to spend time around it again. In them. And for a brief moment, I was able to.

The other thing that happened is that my good friend and former Pastor passed away unexpectedly the day before Thanksgiving. He was in his early 60s and the picture of good health. Haven’t seen him in several years since Michelle and I moved to Orlando. He was the Associate Pastor of a church in Miami for many years (over 20). He had retired within the past year to fulfill a dream he had and he and his wife had moved to Alaska, purchased a Bed and Breakfast,and were in the process of running it. I’m quite sure it was a ministry to them. I had visited our grandson in Miami in the recent past and visited the church hoping to see him but discovered he had moved to Alaska with his wife. We had talked of pastoring a church together if God had willed. I met him just after my engagement to Michelle as he was the Pastor that we approached about counseling and performing our marriage. He began meeting with us and after a time, performed our marriage ceremony (twice). We were married in private at our home with some family that were not able to attend the formal ceremony. Then a few weeks later, we were married in the church. He and I became fast friends. We talked openly with each other about our failings and the bountiful Grace of God. I found him to be one of the least judgemental people I have ever met. We laughed, we cried, we touched that part of each other that only Christ makes possible. I have talked to Michelle many times since we moved about how much I missed him and wanted to reconnect to fellowship in Christ. Below is the last text I sent him on August 19:

         “Hey! Went to visit you today at Upper Room. I am happy for you but had a deep level of sadness when I asked one of the members where y’all are and she told me y’all had moved to Alaska. Please stay in touch with me. I haven’t had the sense of brotherhood that I had with you since I moved to Orlando. You have a special place in both mine and Michelle’s heart. Y’all are always welcome to vacation in our home in Orlando. Miss you.”

 You see, because of my own failings, I have difficulty trusting people and have a difficult time being vulnerable with them. He was someone I showed “all the dirt” to and He still exuded Christ to me and made me want to serve the Lord. Those are rare gems. When we find them in this life, we should hang on to them until the Lord calls them or us home.

I have often thought, since leaving Miami, in the back of my mind of the hope that one day we might be in the same place with our wives ministering together. But God called him home. I wanted to go back and rekindle the fellowship we had. I can’t go back. Neither can you.  All we can do is take full advantage of today and be thankful for those precious people who showed us Jesus. One day we’ll see him as He is. They will too. Some already have.