It's been a weird day. A really weird day.

Make that a weird week. Car troubles and a hospital visit thanks to a Will seizure and some career uncertainty for the Mister.

But some news I received today about a long-ago friend has thrown me for the biggest loop of all.

I can now say I know someone who's in prison. For third-degree sex offense and child abuse.

Knock me over with a feather.

This fellow was someone with whom I worked closely doing volunteer work. Family man. Christian. Talented. Creative. When Will was born, he was the first person to arrive at the hospital, aside from family. Met me in the recovery room, having come straight from the golf course. We were friends.

The last person one would ever imagine could or would end up in a situation like this.

The incident in question took place nearly 15 years ago. Things like this have a way of catching up with a person, I suppose.

I really am not sure what to do with this and if you asked me what I was feeling, I'm not sure I could describe it.


I'm not angry or outraged. More sad than anything. For a lot of reasons. Not the least of which is that I'm now in a little bit of mourning the loss of a friend I thought I knew.

The Good Book says that he who is without sin can cast the first stone. I certainly don't qualify. And that's not how I operate anyway.

Went to the beach tonight to spend some family time and to try and gain some perspective and a little bit of peace about this whole thing. There was a very very low tide this evening -- so much so that a sand bar about 50 feet from shore was easily visible and accessible. Can't remember when -- if ever -- I'd seen such a low tide. A new experience. And as I waded out through clear, clear water, I could easily see the sandy bottom underneath my feet, shifting with every step I took. It wasn't until I reached the rough, shell and rock-laden sand bar. Solid. Reminded me of a hymn sung during my childhood (these days, I most frequently attend a contemporary service, where hymns, if they're sung at all, are reworked and jazzed up)

On Christ the solid Rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand;
All other ground is sinking sand.


And while I may never figure out exactly what to do with my myriad emotions regarding my friend, it's OK.

I've got perspective.

That's all I can ask for.

1 comment:

TopSurf said...

Perspective, it's a great thing. Although I don't always gain it when looking for it until much later after the fact. It's amazing what a trip to the beach can do for your head and your soul. I believe that is why it's my number one most favorite place to be on this earth.