His Too-Muchness
No one knows when he rode into town. We just know he appeared and was so vastly present. There was no escaping him as he came down the street. His wide present eyes upon us, desperate to engage. You could feel him from half a mile off — honing in on you like a drone fighter pilot. It became a game to evade him.
He wanted something. He needed to engage, and we all denied him.
There was simply too much energy emanating from him. His desire to engage made us quiet Minnesotans long for the cover of winter when we could make a fast retreat into the warm and private fire. But alas, it was summer, and we had no good reason to retreat other than fear and rudeness. Neither of which makes a Minnesotan stand tall. So we steel ourselves and play the game of Minnesota nice until we just can’t take it anymore.
He is other. He is too invasive — an intruder, wanting in but going about it in all the ‘wrong’ ways.
Is he the angel that we turn away? Does he need our love and care, or is he the devil we sense him to be — too much energy radiating from him for us to digest? We deflect.
What becomes of the rolling stone, the young man looking for a home, seeking a place of solace, a haven? One moment, he is there. The next, he is not. Boyfriends and husbands hold their wives and girlfriends that much closer. There is a sense that we must be protected, but from what and who?
We wrestle with this angel who came to town and wonder, once he’s left, did we lose the opportunity to meet God in the flesh, or was he really the Devil we thought him to be?
Our hearts beat on, and the river keeps rolling. The stranger and his looming presence ebbing in and out of our sedentary lives.
