In Passing

Within the rolling hills and dancing trees of the top left hand corner of Arkansas, there is a lively pursuit of academia. Packed within the breath of young and old scholar’s is lecture and the great debate of man and the universe: is man good; what is evil; how did society come to be?


I like how the clicking of my pen interrupts the empty summer air of the campus library. I guess I should go to my next class. I’m about to finish my last class in college ever- a routine and way of life that I have only known.


The complexity that I see in the people that walk past me as I go to class is overwhelming. I think about how each of you have your own walk of life, your own joys and hurt separate from my life. And, it is just as real to you as my own reality.


We are all walking past each other; there are many of us. In my peripheral, I see a girl walking toward my line of direction expecting to cross my path from left to right. Even though we both are aware of one another, neither one of us are adjusting our speed so as to prevent us from colliding at our intersection. I am beginning to hesitate a little bit as we get closer and closer.


All of the sudden, she is at my left shoulder and I am crossing past her. As my heel lifts, her toes set and we pass with only the fabrics of our large backpacks barely touching.


I look up with shock on my face as if I have just learned how many days I have left on earth. It had never been more clear to me that there is a Divine Maker and each of us have purpose.