Jonathots Daily Blog
(2727)
Many years ago, I sensed a voice within me, encouraging me to go out and share my heart and abilities with the world. Some people would say it was the voice of God, while others would probably insist that it was just me, declaring my own bidding.
I don’t care.
I heeded the call, and that decision has taken me on an exotic adventure.
- You can usually find a pretty decent place to stay.
- If you pursue the pep for pepperoni, pizza parlors are pretty plentiful.
- Almost always there’s a park nearby for sitting and viewing.
- And grocery stores prosper in all 50 states.
What you occasionally may feel you lack as a traveling troubadour, is encouragement.
I don’t offer this as a lamentation, but rather, a statement of fact–that folks who live in towns often want to promote their lifestyles to the detriment of those who travel about. After all, gypsies are still considered “tramps and thieves.”
I share this candidly with you. Even though you may feel you’re on a mission or that you have something of value you would like to share, this does not always come with appreciation.
But in the midst of every threatening pity party comes the grace of God, to bolster your ego before it collapses in on your determination.
That’s how I would describe my stay in Edgerton, Wisconsin.
Afforded the blessing of three sharings at a church, I was touched by the openness of the local newspaper–which not only advertised our appearances, but offering second-mile enthusiasm in doing so.
When I arrived at the church for setup, a fine fellow named Jim, who just happened to be the pastor, found himself in the position of being the sole carrier of our equipment, since others did not make the scene. He not only had a servant’s heart, but also a mule’s will to tackle the deed without complaint.
Before I left for the presentations that day, I opened up my email and there was a note from a gentleman I hadn’t thought of for nearly thirty years. He remembered some special words I had shared with him which continued to influence his life.
Already my heart was full.
It overflowed after the first show, when another fine fellow who had seen me four years earlier, launched into further conversation about specifics regarding my books, which had enriched his life.
But it didn’t stop there.
One after another, the fine souls who attended this Edgerton church were not only kind, generous and open, but seemed determined to make me and my dear partner feel as if we were long-time residents, or even kin.
They did something amazing. They let us in.
Even though they are warned by a 24-hour news cycle to be suspicious and even angry, they stepped away from that ridiculous counsel and allowed us to be part of them for a brief season.
Matter of fact, one dear woman scurried to my table and asked me if she could hug me.
Yes, you can hug me–if you don’t mind me taking some of the love and energy you’re offering, and sticking it in my soul for lonelier days ahead.
It was our last day in Wisconsin after spending 91 of them “badgering” the locals with our message: no one is better than anyone else.
Thank you, Wisconsin, and a special thank-you to Edgerton.
I leave you with only one word of advice. If you want to draw people to yourselves and see lives changed, let them in to your living room, to see who you really are. Because people are not turned off by your weakness … unless you insist that you’re always strong.
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