Waiting rooms

    Sitting in a waiting room. How many stories there must be. Many are probably cliche but ever person is unique and every person has a story. I love people and their stories. I love to listen to what they've gone through and how it's shaped them into the person they are today. 

   An older gentleman is sitting here in a wheel chair. One could put it off and simply say he's some old guy waiting for a check-up here at the doctors office. But I look at the ware in his eyes as he stares intently at the electrical closet. He isn't interested in the TV. He isn't looking around trying to find some way of occupying his mind like many of us young people. No he already has stories in his past to dwell on. The chaos of children and blabby adults around him bothers him none. His leathered skin speaks of hard work in his younger years out in the sun. No time for the latest greatest in today's technology. Sometimes what we've been through is so much more important. The sadness in his slouch, he seems tired. Tired of life. Tired of daily issues that no longer have relevance as an older man. Just some things I observe. Perhaps the joy is missing. The joy of Christ and the life to come when knowing Him. I take this moment to pray for him that he knows Christ. No one should be so worn, so sad, so disconnected from what is around and be lost to hope. The hope of heaven. 

   Any number of things could be going on. And observation is probably hardly a glimpse into what his life may be like. But I know his life is unique and he has a story. I only wish I could have heard it before he left. Maybe one day I'll ask the next person who seems to have a story.  Though we all have stories. But who is willing to share?

   Just some thoughts....