Have you ever noticed how easy it is to talk to some people? Have you noticed that the person you are talking to have some qualities that may it very easy to talk to them?
My dad was that way. No matter where he went he talked to people. Whatever we were doing as a family he could be found talking to someone. At a family camp ground dad would not be there for a while… and we would find him two spots over talking to someone. When he did that we discovered something new for our family to do.
One time I took my Dad with me to Newfoundland. I had been there many times but Dad had never visited the province. I was there to preach and teach in the many churches of the province. Dad was there to meet people.
Many times as I was packing up or unpacking my things for the session that I was doing. Dad was gone. I could always find him where people were.
In Newfoundland the church is often situated near the water front as the main road always followed the shore line of the Bay. I would find Dad across the road, down on the dock with the men that were working there.
It was on one of those docks that I heard Dad called by his new ‘nickname’ – “Skipper”. Dad was saying goodbye to his new friends on the dock – crusty old fishermen working with their nets. As he left they called out, “Good to meet ya, Skipper!” Dad replied, “Remember is you are ever in Saskatchewan I want you to come to visit us..”
My mom had not idea how many new friends Dad had invited to come and visit them in Regina. Newfoundland was so far away that it was unlikely it would ever happen… but they were all welcome.
Dad’s conversation was always friendly. Dad’s conversation always wanted to know more about the person that he was talking to. Dad knew more than most people on almost every topic – yet he wanted more. The person talking to him would never know how wise he really was – because he was always finding out how wise they were.
Conversation is a gift that I give myself. I treasure the interaction and the exchange of words.
Last evening I savored this again with a young man. We sat talking in my garage. I think I do more talking and meeting people in the garage than I do wood carving. It is a place of a gift exchange. The gift is conversation.
Looking to my reference to the Virtual World in the last two days – I have thought much about the loss that these folks have experienced. Their relationship is so superficial – so shallow. It is happening in their mind and often through an avatar.
This week I played a computer game that involves me and five other computer generated characters. I found my self stirred by the action and then laughed at my self as I started to talking to the idiot on screen that had just left me in the dust. The guy was beating me hands down with the race that I was running in… yet he wasn’t real. I was the only one talking to anyone… to a dumb TV screen.
There is nothing like speaking with a friend.
Can you imagine never speaking to anyone? Or - on the reverse - no one speaking to you?
~ Murray Lincoln ~
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