Dave Brisbin 8.11.24
Moving days are always stressful, but our last move was off the hook. My wife sick, cleaning and packing until 1:30A, then up again at 6A to pouring rain that lasted all day. Delays at the new house meant they were still laying floor on moving day.
The moving crew showed up, men in their twenties with tats and knit caps, seemed energized by the rain, made a game of seeing how efficiently they could load and keep water off everything that mattered. Fast and loud, calling out to each other, working as if trying to set a rain record. At the new home, rain still driving, they unloaded in a kind of dance, stepping over stacks of laminate and the crew laying floor who were laughing and dodging the movers, singing at the top of their lungs in Spanish to a boom box blaring traditional Mexican music.
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A theologian once prayed eight years for God to send him someone who could teach the way of true perfection. He sees a beggar on the steps of the church and wishes him a good day. Beggar replies that he does not remember ever having a bad day…so present with God, he is always happy.
Young tatted men and Hispanic workers were fully present to rain and music. I was thinking of a hundred other things. It took a theologian eight years to become ready to be taught by a beggar. How long before I’m ready to learn from those God constantly sends?
