I pick at the mashed potatoes in front of me as I look across the table to the person with whom I’m sharing the evening. He is speaking. I listen.
A lonely heart, a confused hurting spirit is the sound I’m hearing. Yet another soul who has been caught in the entrails of religion and has been left for dead by the Pharisees. Given up as a lost cause, considered to be an expired Christian by many. I see tears in his eyes and I feel them in mine.
Misunderstood, rejected, wounded. His confusion mistaken for rebellion. I look around to see the faces of the restaurant patrons. Our waitress. I seldom see people like I see them tonight. Behind each mask I see eternity. Eternity. It’s hanging there waiting just as sure as my potatoes are waiting to be consumed. I take a bite.
Now we’re outside, standing in the parking lot still talking. I look towards the road to see hundreds of vehicles passing by, each vehicle . . .
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