What's Your Name?
It’s been another long and difficult night; four in a row. Wakeful. Strange dreams. Tears. Feelings of dread. No peace.
You still can’t believe it happened. It doesn’t seem real. When you got the news, it was like a punch in the stomach. A stab in the heart. Energy drained right out of you. Your mind could not focus. Your life would no longer be the same.
Questions still swirl. Why did this happen? Could I have done something to stop it? Where was God? Why didn’t He stop it? What should I do now? How will I be able to keep going?
With dawn showing in the East, you decide to take a walk. Get some fresh air. Try to clear your head. Pray a little. It’s a cool morning, good for a walk, and the steady rhythm of your stride seems to calm you some. But you keep rehearsing everything in your mind. Before you head back, you decide to grab a coffee.
As you approach the door of the convenience store, a voice comes from the bench in front: “Morning. How are you?”
For some strange reason you decide to answer the young man truthfully. “Not so good. It’s been a rough few days.”
“Want to talk?”
The tone of his voice sounds genuine, and you are drawn to sit beside him on the bench. Before you know it, you are telling him everything that happened and all the questions in your mind.
“I’ve had some rough patches in my life, too,” he offers. “And there was one time when I thought everything was over.”
“How’d you get through it?”
“My father took care of me.”
“Well, my father can’t do much about this...”
“Oh, I think He will,” he offers as he gets up to leave. “By the way, what’s your name?”
You tell him yours, and then you ask, “What’s yours?”