Shooting Stars

Even in the craziness of the holidays, I occasionally encounter a rare moment of quiet. And it’s been during these spaced out times of solitude that I find my wandering mind taking stock of where I've been and where I might be headed; to look back at the good and bad, the successes and regrets. And in looking back, it looks like 2011 is going to end up as a break-even year. This year, I’ve had a little of both; a few highs, a few lows. But being the glass-half-empty-fellow I try not-to-be-but-so- often-am - I guess it’s the lows that seem to garner most of my attention.

I read a book this year called “The Shack”, a remarkably well-written story of a discouraged man that goes on a weekend trip to meet with God and question Him about the sadness in his life. And though I didn’t in 2011 encounter the brokenness of the man in Paul Young's story, I have gone through times- even this year- when I’ve felt bogged down and knee deep in the clutter of buried failures, wrongdoings and transgressions still taking up space in my own “shack".  So, retreating into contemplative thought tonight, after a very crummy day at work, this was my frame of mind during the long ride home.

Fifteen minutes into my journey, somewhere between Penryn and Newcastle, out from under the omnipresent halo of city lights, and deep in the nighttime sky, I noticed the flash of a shooting star. Of course, everybody knows if you see one and make a wish before it burns out, your wish will come true. So, considering the day I'd just lived through, I figured, why not?  Yeah, I'm probably a little old to still believe in fairy tales. But sometimes even the tiniest glimmer of hope- even false hope- is enough to make you do silly things. It certainly couldn't hurt, so I quickly made my wish.

Although Christmas is just about here, and for the record, I did not wish for a new car or any other material things. I didn't wish for more money or fame, or even good health. And with wars being fought somewhere on the planet every day since the time of Cain and Abel, the standard "peace on earth" wish seemed like a non-starter, too. But I also didn't wish for the Sharks to trade Patrick Marleau or for the Oakland A's to stay competitive at least until May next year, either. No, I didn't wish for any of that stuff. Instead, my wish was on behalf of a friend.

 

Altruistic as that may appear, though, this wish was actually more for my own well being. See, this friend has been on my mind a lot in recent years. At one time we were best friends- the "bestest" as we used to tell each other. And it was a wonderful time for me. Up till then, I'd never had such a close connection with any one before, and each day seemed to be better than the one before. Which wasn't easy, because they were all good! It was like life had just begun and was only going to get better. But it didn't work out that way, and the friendship, like the shooting star, flamed out almost as quickly as it burst upon the galaxy.

There are plenty of reasons why, but most likely it was because we shouldn't have been together in the first place. We were both too young and damaged, but old enough to know better. At least I was. Yet it was fun and we were serious and I became blind to the lapse in judgment, foolishness and blatant ignorance of what we were doing. But sometimes, the simple need to find love can cause you to make some of the most complicated mistakes. Who knew? I didn't. Not until in too deep. And by then, even if I'd wanted to, there really wasn't any way to go back and stuff the genie back in the bottle.

I just wanted to be loved. To know love. To feel loved. But, as is the case with most things that aren't supposed to be, this quest ended badly. We crashed and burned in a most predictable way. Not in hot anger or any sort of physical altercation, but quietly, sadly, and mostly soaked in tears. The damage left me lost in an uncharted emptiness and heavy sense of loss, the kind I'd never known before. After awhile though, I used this burden as a crutch to almost avoid having to move on, or let anyone get close again.

But I don’t know how the "disintegration of us" left my friend. Except for one letter later on, which vaguely suggested a door might have been left ajar, we never saw or spoke to each other again. So I don't know how the consequences of our friendship- though all unintended- played out and affected my friend. There were so many things left unsaid. No real resolution. No chance to make it right- if I even could make it right. I think that's why the memory of this person keeps crossing my mind again. Yet if there really was a way to go back and make peace, I'd love to look my friend in the eye and say my piece:

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the things I said and the things I did. I wronged you. Though I never meant to hurt you or leave behind so much sorrow and regret, a day hasn't gone by that I haven't wished I could go back and undo the damage. Can you ever forgive me?" 

Then I’d wish my friend would take my hand, look back into my own eyes and gently assure me." It's okay. Don't worry about it anymore. I'm fine. My life turned out fine and I'm happy. And yes, I forgive you." Or better yet: "There's nothing to forgive". And if that happened, with closure at last secured, I know I'd feel the cloud of guilt and sorrow start to lift and I'd finally be free. And for a split second, before the star disappeared, I actually believed my wish would come true.

But if wishes were currency, my bank account would be bigger than what's held in Fort Knox. I've wished and wished for stuff all my life and, nearly always, my wishes never came true. Likely this is another one. If I can't go back and change what I did five minutes ago, then surely I can't go back and cancel out the harm that happened years and years ago. All I can do is keep praying for my friend and keep praying for me. And use the mistakes made then, as a measuring stick to chart my course in life today.

They say those that don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it. If so, thankfully there hasn't been a repeat of Rocket at 20. Besides, I'm not the same guy I was back then. It's an inescapable fact of living- you change as you go, or are supposed to anyway. Grow, mature, wise-up. And maybe I've managed to do some of that; a little, anyway. More importantly, I've lived enough to know that if I can't receive forgiveness from my friend, then, by grace,  I know I've received it from my God. If I haven’t yet found freedom from my past, then at least I can find some peace in the present.

I drew a long sigh and drove on. But about fifteen more miles down the road, above me in the wide dark space of the cold December night, surprisingly, I saw another shooting star. After burning up my wish-count on the last one, I was tempted to just let this one quietly fly by un-wished upon. Yet still drawing on hope, I briefly closed my eyes and rattled off this prayer, written by somebody far craftier with words than I'll ever be- Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Oh, Father, whether I'm under the cumbersome weight of the past or dragged down by the heavy burdens of now, let that be my prayer and my wish- today and every day.