/************** REMOVE THIS TO UNHIDE THE BLOGGER NAVBAR **************** **/ #b-navbar {height:0px;visibility:hidden;display:none} /** *************************************************************************
January 13, 2006
posted by David Meigs at 1/13/2006 11:20:00 AM
The crowd rushed forward to get their books signed. I brought two hard-cover’s myself, which made navigating the walker tricky. I was prone to tipping on a good day and I didn’t want to be the guy that did a face plant right into Frank Peretti.

By the time I made it to the front of the line, I felt like I’d run a marathon. Frank’s compassionate eyes met mine and I knew he didn’t recognize me. I didn’t mind though, in fifteen years I’d changed a lot.

I gathered all my strength, but I only managed a whisper. “Hi Frank, do you remember me? It’s David Meigs.” Ok, I don’t remember exactly what was said, but it was something close to it.

His eyes were mingled recognition and sorrow. “David Meigs! It’s been so long. What’s happened to you?”

“They think it’s the same thing Dudley Moore had, but nobody knows for sure.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” And I could tell he meant it.

“Frank, I need to ask your forgiveness for letting you and everyone down back then.”

“What? It’s ok, don’t worry about it Dave. God forgave that a long time ago. Let it go.”

He wrapped his arms around me and said a prayer. It felt so good. A ton of unresolved garbage lifted off my shoulders. Then I told him that I’d written a book. His face was a Polaroid of the “sure kid” look he gave me back in 76.

I explained to him about the day when my confusion lifted and God told me to write the book. I told him how I wrote it for my children, and what I hoped it would mean to them.

Then I asked his forgiveness again for not writing the book all those years ago. How writing just never felt right, like it would have been disloyal after all he did for me. As it left my lips, I realized how silly it was. Another weight lifted off my shoulders.

We said our farewells and I turned to leave. Forget the walker; I was dancing on the clouds. I didn’t even care that I did a face plant before getting out the door. Nothing was going to steal my joy.

Little did I know that in three weeks I could throw away my walker forever!


On Monday, we’ll wrap it up with my healing.

 

Links to this post:

<\$BlogItemBacklinkCreate\$>




8 Comments:


At Friday, January 13, 2006, Blogger Rulan

Oh curm, when I read where he wrapped his arms around you, it brought tears of joy to my eyes. The love and compassion of a friend is such a wonderful gift. It also spoke of the Lord's love. So powerful.

I cannot find the words to express my joy in the Father's love that is so evident. Praise the Lord. I am looking forward to reading tomorrows post.

 

At Friday, January 13, 2006, Blogger Michelle Pendergrass

Wow, again.

Bless both you and Frank. That did bring tears to my eyes as well.

 

At Friday, January 13, 2006, Anonymous Anonymous

sea ya monday!
janice

 

At Sunday, January 15, 2006, Blogger Michel Archer

Whoa! Curm, this is an amazing and wonderful story! I can't wait till Monday! You go, brother!

 

At Sunday, January 15, 2006, Blogger Pia

wow! your story is so inspiring.

 

At Monday, January 16, 2006, Blogger K. Jimmy

tears...me too! thanks, again. looking forward to the last "chapter".

 

At Tuesday, January 17, 2006, Blogger M. C. Pearson

I'm a little confused...you skipped a few years. Not sure what happened with you two but am thankful you had the guts to go and apologize. It is so hard to do that but it feels so GOOD afterwards doesn't it? Off to read Monday's post.

 

At Tuesday, January 17, 2006, Blogger The Curmudgeon's Rant

Thank you all for the encouraging words. Telling the world about some of the most devastating points in my life was not easy. It sure helped to tell it to such a compassionate group as all of you.

Mimi (MC) - Yes I did skip over quite a lot. You asked about the issues I needed to resolve with Frank. It simply had to do with my moving on. There were elements of the past that I couldn’t let go. God forgave me, but I couldn’t forgive myself.