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I Wait on the Cusp

I am nothing if not practical. I like to plan, to have something in mind before I set out to accomplish something. This can be the simplest of tasks to the most complex of operations. Regardless, I have a plan and desire to execute it. My plan this morning, Saturday, April 29, 2023, was to greet the sunrise with my fiancé. Together on the beach, we would welcome the new day; bittersweet since it also marked the departure of my beloved back to their home country of France. The weather had other intentions. The day was overcast and gloomy as the last remaining vestiges of a spring thunderstorm refused to depart our area. Plans 0, Life 1.

We then planned to go to breakfast at a local restaurant. We arrived, took our seats, and placed our orders. Behind us lay a beautiful vista of the marsh and ocean illumined by the sun, finally free of its cloudy prison. All was well. Our food and beverages arrived; hot, fresh, and ready for consumption. All was good. We paid the bill and walked to our car. Then, I was struck with an acute sensation of nausea. Powerful; unyielding. I was lucky not to vomit in the car. We made it home, where I promptly became the first citizen of the porcelain throne. Plans 0, Life 2.

As I write this blog post, my fiancé, Mathieu, is currently on his way to the airport. Am I the one driving him? No. Am I the one who will see him to the gate? No. My dear friends were kind enough to provide him transportation. I have entrusted him to their wonderful care. Meanwhile, the taxes demanded by the porcelain throne continue unabated. Ruthless in its shakedowns; wringing every drop of life from my body. Plans 0, Life 3.

So, dear reader, why am I writing this blog post? Have I wasted your time? (Some would say, ‘yes.’) Simple. I write this because I noticed something during this ordeal; I want to share it with you.

I saw four people during our breakfast. They caught my eye not because of their clothing or any demonstrative behavior. No, what caught my attention was the efforts these four people took not to be seen. Their body language spoke of a need to make themselves small, unnoticed. Why, dear reader? Because they were persons who were without a home. All they had with them was what they owned: the clothes on their bodies and prepaid phones.

I share this observation with you, dear reader, not to say anything regarding life and plans. No. The lesson meant for this blog post is deeper. Those people made every effort not to be seen. They were afraid. Fear was the currency of their lives: keep quiet, keep out of sight. Try to make yourself as small and unnoticeable as possible. Don’t make trouble. These are the behaviors of someone aiming to protect themselves through invisibility.

Body language and facial expression constantly communicate with those around us. The body language of these people, interpreted through my experience, was they didn’t have a good opinion of themselves. These people believed they were deficient socially and, therefore, tried not to “make waves.”

All people are made in the image of God, dear reader. What does that mean? More to come.


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