My wife and I watched a movie the other day. I cannot say it was great but it was thought provoking and engaging. A Fall City Christmas was the title. The story line was
about a young man, late college age, who was not enjoying life. I won’t go into details, except to say that his hard life was the product of a combination of poor choices, unfortunate circumstances, and people who were not always helpful. Watching it got my mind to reflecting on people from my past.
There will be no names, and most won’t know those I mention, but some might, so there won’t be lots of details. And please, don’t try and figure out the who. At first, I thought of a young man from my distant past. As I watched, I kept seeing parallels, especially the unfortunate circumstances part. The people in his story and those in the movie were different, but for the better part of an hour he was on my mind and on my heart. Toward the end, several other people, male and female came to mind. Then the wondering settled it. Most of those I thought of are no longer part of my life, a few I know where they are and how they are doing. Others I have lost contact with.
Then, after the movie was over and I wandered down the hall one person suddenly touched my heart. Here is his story. His name was Lance. Sherry and I were newly-weds, probably less than a year, or just over. We had moved from Seattle to Brockton, MA thanks to the U.S. Navy. Once we got settled, like in a week, we hunted a church and found the South Easton Church of Christ. Being close enough both believe wise and distance from our house, we started attending. It was there that the Lance story starts.
One day, the preacher called Sherry, I was off saving America, and ask her if she could help out a family. I don’t remember many of the details of that connection except his mother was in treatment and needed someone to watch her son. He was almost two and of course, we said yes. Truthfully, Sherry said yes and told me when I got home that night. We had a one-bedroom duplex, so I don’t know where he slept, maybe our room. I was gone most the time, but I have two very vivid memories of him.
At the time he was there, I was studying to be on flight crew for our airplanes. The Navy has a manual for each type of plane that is called the NATOPS Manual. I have one around my house somewhere. Shortly after Lance came, he would stand on that manual and watch out the window, waiting for me to come home. He was so cute. I looked for him in the window, even as he looked for me.
The second memory centers on peaches. Lance had never had a canned peach in his life. As it was, we were having peaches for lunch on day and he thought he wanted one. So one of us cut off a small piece and get it to him. He just sat there, peach in his half open mouth, not sure he even liked it. All of a sudden, that piece slid down his throat, it was small and not a choking danger and was gone. He decided he liked it and wanted more.
Lance’s mom got our to rehab and came a got him after a month. She had other challenges and he was back with us for what would be about nine month. To be honest, I haven’t thought a lot about Lance through the last forty years or so. On occasion, like when I am eating canned peaches, or when an old Navy friend gave me a NATOPS manual a few years ago, Lance crosses my mind.
Yet, the other night was different. Why him and why as I reflected on the movie escapes me. All I know is he did. I started wondering what ever happened to him. There are many possibilities, not all were positive. His parents had problems to be sure. Where is Lance now? What is he doing? He is fifty-three now. Even as I write these words, my mind travels back. Lance was the first of so many people who have lived with us. Some like Lance, just people needed help. Some were state sponsored foster kids. Some family. Each in some way had an impact on my life and my prayer is that we impacted most of those people, as not all were kids, were impacted for the better by being with us. Since Monday I have prayed a lot for Lance, and so many others.
One great promise I come away with from this is that I have a Father. He knows my name. He cares for me and never forgets about me, he loves me. (That might make a good song idea.) Doctors have a motto, “Do no harm.” I like that. But maybe my prayer is that I “Did some good” in the lives of as many people as we could. Have I been perfect? Far from it. Could I have done better? Undoubtedly. May God make up the difference and cover the times when I didn’t do good and may my good outweigh my mistakes. And that is this afternoon’s prayer.