Reconciled
Dear Eugene,
Today is a very special day. I took the skytrain to meet up with a friend with whom I had a kind of fallout since last September.
The "fallout," which I doubt either of us had given it such official label, was all the more regrettable because only a month before that we had a sort of breakthrough in our relationship, that after years of being "friends" we were able to probably for the first time speak heart to heart.
A "kind of" fallout. A "sort of" breakthrough. Everything is so tentative and tenuous when it comes to breaking out of the self to relate to the other. Like an under-rehearsed dance recital with angels looking on. Somehow it feels like we are meant to fail and the angels are bound to sigh.
The "fallout" was unexpected, by either of us, I suppose. My friend was growing increasingly bitter towards pretty much everything and everyone, and I gave him a few words harsher than even the usual, perplexed by his gradual but steady downturn, backsliding from the improvement I witnessed only a month ago. I just couldn't understand why the rancor would come back so very soon and with twice the force.
I make it sound like I was the saint and he the sinner. But no. No, no. I regretted my harsh words right after they came out, but then it was already too late. I could have expressed myself in a thousand other different ways but I chose to fight fire with fire. Not wise. Not Christ-like. The price of my careless words was swift and dear: He said he doesn't want to be my friend any more. Then I proceeded to give the last words to the situation and secured its tragic status.
Fast forward to about a month ago, that we needed to talk to each others again about some work stuffs. Both of us seized the opportunity to give our pride a break. Since then we started our tentative dance again to learn anew how to relate to each others. There is a quiet confidence to face a new tomorrow if we are willing to learn from the past.
He runs marathon. Today I took the skytrain to watch him do his weekly run. I walked, read a bit, and walked again. He just ran. As usual, he didn't volunteer to make known his mind, when he would stop running, or if he intended to go for lunch with me. Around a lake he ran, passed me a few times, told some unfunny joke each time we met. Then I told him I will walk to somewhere else and if he wants to go for lunch to just text me.
He called me. Usually he would not stop for anything until he is done running. Runners like to time themselves and keep a record of progress. But he stopped and called me to arrange a time for lunch. I could see he too was learning to dance new steps.
The lunch was funny. He asked me to order and went to wash his hands. He came back before the waitress came so I told him what to order for me and I went to wash my hands. For whatever reason he thought I ordered for the both of us already and my reporting my order to him was for his information. So we sat there for a good 15 minutes before we realized something might be wrong, for he goes to that restaurant often and the wait time was most uncharacteristic. We had a good laugh when we finally found out the truth.
During the wait a few times he stopped short of uttering what was ready to slip out of his lips. Finally he summoned the courage and told me he was sorry for what happened last September. I am sure he could tell the words I was ready to utter were probably an exact match to his. He was grateful for the gentle advice I gave him a month before the fallout, an encouragement to make a decision to make peace with his family members that had since led to many other good things. He used to go to church but is not a Christian; now he spoke to me with words from the Bible. He told me I shall be blessed richly because I was a peace-maker.
When I heard that I felt pleased not because it pleased my pride but because those were the exact words I encouraged him with back then. Both of us were transformed by God's words.
Yet at the same time I felt challenged by the words, again. For every incident of peace-making I was a warmonger a few times over. What my friend spoke might be true but the full truth is that this Kingdom man is still not very close to the heart of the King.
I thank God for today. Nothing is sweeter than reconciliation. Salvation grants true liberty.
Thank you for encouraging me to be a peacemaker all these years, despite my warmonging nature. We are all learning the Trinitarian dance, the dance of perfect harmony.
Always thankful, Alex
Today is a very special day. I took the skytrain to meet up with a friend with whom I had a kind of fallout since last September.
The "fallout," which I doubt either of us had given it such official label, was all the more regrettable because only a month before that we had a sort of breakthrough in our relationship, that after years of being "friends" we were able to probably for the first time speak heart to heart.
A "kind of" fallout. A "sort of" breakthrough. Everything is so tentative and tenuous when it comes to breaking out of the self to relate to the other. Like an under-rehearsed dance recital with angels looking on. Somehow it feels like we are meant to fail and the angels are bound to sigh.
The "fallout" was unexpected, by either of us, I suppose. My friend was growing increasingly bitter towards pretty much everything and everyone, and I gave him a few words harsher than even the usual, perplexed by his gradual but steady downturn, backsliding from the improvement I witnessed only a month ago. I just couldn't understand why the rancor would come back so very soon and with twice the force.
I make it sound like I was the saint and he the sinner. But no. No, no. I regretted my harsh words right after they came out, but then it was already too late. I could have expressed myself in a thousand other different ways but I chose to fight fire with fire. Not wise. Not Christ-like. The price of my careless words was swift and dear: He said he doesn't want to be my friend any more. Then I proceeded to give the last words to the situation and secured its tragic status.
Fast forward to about a month ago, that we needed to talk to each others again about some work stuffs. Both of us seized the opportunity to give our pride a break. Since then we started our tentative dance again to learn anew how to relate to each others. There is a quiet confidence to face a new tomorrow if we are willing to learn from the past.
He runs marathon. Today I took the skytrain to watch him do his weekly run. I walked, read a bit, and walked again. He just ran. As usual, he didn't volunteer to make known his mind, when he would stop running, or if he intended to go for lunch with me. Around a lake he ran, passed me a few times, told some unfunny joke each time we met. Then I told him I will walk to somewhere else and if he wants to go for lunch to just text me.
He called me. Usually he would not stop for anything until he is done running. Runners like to time themselves and keep a record of progress. But he stopped and called me to arrange a time for lunch. I could see he too was learning to dance new steps.
The lunch was funny. He asked me to order and went to wash his hands. He came back before the waitress came so I told him what to order for me and I went to wash my hands. For whatever reason he thought I ordered for the both of us already and my reporting my order to him was for his information. So we sat there for a good 15 minutes before we realized something might be wrong, for he goes to that restaurant often and the wait time was most uncharacteristic. We had a good laugh when we finally found out the truth.
During the wait a few times he stopped short of uttering what was ready to slip out of his lips. Finally he summoned the courage and told me he was sorry for what happened last September. I am sure he could tell the words I was ready to utter were probably an exact match to his. He was grateful for the gentle advice I gave him a month before the fallout, an encouragement to make a decision to make peace with his family members that had since led to many other good things. He used to go to church but is not a Christian; now he spoke to me with words from the Bible. He told me I shall be blessed richly because I was a peace-maker.
When I heard that I felt pleased not because it pleased my pride but because those were the exact words I encouraged him with back then. Both of us were transformed by God's words.
Yet at the same time I felt challenged by the words, again. For every incident of peace-making I was a warmonger a few times over. What my friend spoke might be true but the full truth is that this Kingdom man is still not very close to the heart of the King.
I thank God for today. Nothing is sweeter than reconciliation. Salvation grants true liberty.
Thank you for encouraging me to be a peacemaker all these years, despite my warmonging nature. We are all learning the Trinitarian dance, the dance of perfect harmony.
Always thankful, Alex
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