Europe 2007. I didn't believe the train
ticket machine when I read it: Payment not processed. Stupid bank
card.
You ever wanna beat up a card swiping
machine in a public place? I was past that point. The only money I
had on me was two American dollars...useless. I strolled over to the
ticket booth to an actual person...that couldn't care less.
“Um, do you know how far the airport
is from here?”
The attendant's eyes widened, a portly
English bloke carelessly stuffed into the uniform of a much smaller
man.
“Thee aeroporte? Whi, that's fa frum
thiss traan station,” said Euro Santa sans beard, rosy cheeks and
all. “Whi doo yoo need too go thair?”
“All of my things are at the hotel, I
took the train to get here but I can't get back...my bank card isn't
working”
My eyes basically
begged it: Please help me...please.
“Yoo shood cawl
yor banc mate”
I turned from that booth feeling like
an orphan, like Matthew 9:36 when Jesus saw the crowd as helpless and
harassed. I felt invisible.
I ended up being cheated out of the
rest of my money, money changers too willing to levy unreasonable
rates on the tourist, I needed to start begging...my pride wouldn't
let me.
I stood there immobile, mentally
debilitated, a schizophrenic sneaking awkward glances at busy people
passing by with their busy lives: carrying shopping bags, laughing
with children in tow, cell phones plastered to their faces while mine
had been dead for hours. I hated them.
Payphones were a joke back home, I used
to giggle about those past collect calls made after basketball
practice at the civic center, I never paid.
'At the tone, say your name'
'Beep'
“Itsjeanmarcpickmeupnow”
A young man finally connected the dots
as I tapped the payphone change flap for the numberless time, in the
hope money would appear. My mouth refused to beg, so my eyes had to.
We long to feel solid and whole, so we
build ourselves up with all these things: women, occupation,
education, fame, money—the only problem with that is your sense of
self disappears when they do.
Sports stars cry when retiring from a
great professional career because they are loosing their identity,
not just their paycheck, a reason to matter, to be seen and
recognized.
God is the only one looking for us
invisible people. No struggle or person is invisible to His sight.
“And when it grew late, his disciples
came to him and said, “This is a desolate place, and the hour is
now late. Send them away to go into the surrounding countryside and
villages and buy themselves something to eat.” But he answered
them, “You give them something to eat.” And they said to him,
“Shall we go and buy two hundred denarii worth of bread
and give it to them to eat?” And he said to them, “How many
loaves do you have? Go and see.” And when they had found out, they
said, “Five, and two fish.” Then he commanded them all to sit
down in groups on the green grass. So they sat down in groups, by
hundreds and by fifties. And taking the five loaves and the two fish
he looked up to heaven and said a blessing and broke the loaves and
gave them to the disciples to set before the people. And he divided
the two fish among them all. And they all ate and were satisfied.”
-Mark 6:35-42
In Him,
Jean-Marc
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