Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Who Are the Bonnies in Your Life? - Dave's Deep Thoughts

 
Here's Pastor Dave McDowell's weekly devotional that he sends out to members of his church. Dave is my brother and serves as the Music Minister at Stewartstown UMC in PA.
 
Maybe it is true,
we are all like snowflakes,
some just more flaky then others.
 
When I was in graduate school,
I had the first time experience
of living in a campus house.
 
It was a large Victorian home
that was available each year to 10 college students.
Because the monthly rent was so affordable,
there was great demand to live in it.
 
In my third year of school,
I was fortunate enough
to gain residence.
 
One of the purposes for the house
was to have students of varying
diversities live together
and become acquainted with
those different from themselves.
 
My housemates came from a variety of regions
around the country and even the world.
We represented a variety of academic studies
as well as ethnic backgrounds.
 
At the beginning of the year,
we decided to have Friday evening pizza socials
as a means to spend time together.
 
Since the ten of us had differing schedules and majors,
we rarely saw each other on the large campus.
This was our way of intentionally building community.
 
After one month, we agreed that it was working.
Except for Bonnie.
 
Bonnie seemed to be a bit of a loner.
She would leave the house early in the morning
and come home late in the evening.
She always seemed to be in a hurry
even though none of us ever knew where she was going.
 
When most of us had retired for the evening,
her return home was usually announced by the slamming of the front door
and the heavy pounding of her footsteps up the stairway.
 
Bonnie rarely talked to anyone unless
someone could stop her long enough to ask a question.
She never came to the pizza socials despite numerous invitations.
In fact, none of us ever shared a meal with her.
 
While the other nine of us began to build friendships,
Bonnie remained an enigma.
 
A few months later,
we began to receive regular phone calls from out-of-state banks
requesting that Bonnie return the calls.
Since this was the pre-cell phone age,
there was only one phone in the house for everyone to use.
Despite the numerous messages that we left for Bonnie,
calls were never returned.
 
Over Christmas break,
most of us departed for various locations to spend the holiday.
For the first time in 4 months,
Bonnie approached me and asked a question.
She needed a ride to the bus terminal
and asked if I would take her.
 
I agreed.
The 20 minute drive would be my chance, I thought,
to have a conversation with her.
It ended up being a one-sided conversation.
Bonnie simply didn't want me, or any of us
to know anything about herself.
 
Upon arrival at the terminal,
the car door slammed shut
without a "Thank you" or even a "Merry Christmas".
 
It was at that moment,
that I decided that I didn't like Bonnie.
 
In the next months not much changed
except that Bonnie returned from Christmas break
now committed to losing weight through a diet..........
a popcorn diet.
 
So now her late evening arrival
was announced by the slamming of the front door,
the footsteps pounding on the staircase
and the whirling of the hot air popper.
 
One afternoon as I was watching a football game
with one of my housemates
Bonnie came home.
 
It was one of the rare times
that she returned home midday.
What happened then was even more rare.
 
She stopped and looked at the television set for a few minutes
and then said,
 
"If you imagined that the lines on the football field
were like the lines of a musical staff,
and the players were musical notes,
I wonder what kind of melody it would be
if you read them where they fell."
 
My housemate and I just looked at each other.
Bonnie had just taken two things that I enjoy,
music and football,
and turned them into crazy talk.
 
With that comment,
she didn't wait for a response.
(I'm not sure what response there could have been)
She marched to the kitchen
where the whirl of the hot air popper began.
 
The end of the school year
marked the end of my time at graduate school.
We had our final pizza social as a time to say goodbye
and recall all the good times we had during the year.
 
We decided to end our time
by closing in a circle and praying for each other.
Just as we started to pray,
you guessed it....
 
Front door slammed,
heavy footsteps straight past the folks in the prayer circle,
hot air popper began its loud roar.
 
An invitation to join us in the goodbyes went unheeded,
as had many invitations throughout the year.
 
Some of the most fervent prayers in my life
have come at odd times and locations,
but let me say this............
it is really difficult to hear let alone concentrate
while praying to the whirl of a hot air popper.
 
That was the last time I saw Bonnie.
No goodbye as she stomped up the steps to her room.
While many of us were shedding some tears at our departures,
Bonnie was continuing to raise the stock of Orville Reddenbacher popcorn.
 
I don't know if the banks ever caught up with Bonnie,
I don't know if her popcorn diet worked.
I don't know if Bonnie ever developed a meaningful relationship.
And to this day,
I don't fully know the reason that Bonnie and I were housed together for that year.
 
But this I do know.
 
Bonnie matters to God.
And even if I didn't like her,
I knew I needed to love her,
because God loves her.
 
Sometimes loving someone,
particularly someone who is so different from one's self,
means allowing them their space as they learn to love in return.
 
Some snowflakes just fall and melt quickly,
as if they were never there.
Others fall and remain for a while.
No matter the duration,
they bring value to our existence,
even if to us, it seems so insignificant.
 
May the Lord give you a Bonnie in your life,
so that you can love the unlikeable,
much the same as Christ loved us
despite our shortcomings.
 
"Let all that you do be done in love."
I Corinthians 16:14
 
 

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