Day 22: I am writing today's blog before I take the picture. I already know what it is going to be so it's simply a matter of finding the best place to take it. This morning on the train I read a short story entitled, "Monday", by Mark Helprin. I had Mr. Helprin for class once and know him to be an excellent story teller, especially when it comes to the tales of his remarkable adventures and travels. I have been reading the stories the last several days and his flowing words have painted beautiful pictures in my mind that surpass none to quickly and are accompanied by a lingering feeling of some sort of irony. The story this morning did not disappoint. It was written in the eyes of a contractor who stumbled upon a woman in the wake of the September 11th tragedy. The story, no doubt not at fictional as it could be due to the heightened patriotism and heroism in the days following the attack, showed sacrifice in order to honor the fallen. As I read the beautiful words, the sobs rose in my throat and tears came to my eyes; I had to make quite the effort to stop the
m from freely flowing in the middle of the crowded morning commute. It took quite a few blinks to get them under control. Had I been alone I would have sobbed. I don't know where the time went because moments later we were pulling into my station and I was somewhat in a daze. For reasons that are patriotically obvious, I felt overcome with the urge to catch a glimpse of the Capitol before heading down into the metro system. In the rush of the morning, I briefly saw it, proudly shining in its white glory. As I went down the escalator I immediately noticed that it seemed to be empty today. Perhaps it is the calm before the coming (snow) storm, but it was nearly eerie, the silence that met me. It fit perfectly into my strange mood and all I could do on the train was ponder things bigger than I and the affect that 9/11 had on every one. To my delight I saw a woman reading her Bible-the first time I have seen that, and I was blessed by it again tonight on the way home. Most days my commute is long and somewhat boring, but today it was fulfilling and ended up encouraging. Emboldened by these strangers, I spent some time in the Word on my long ride and came upon this verse: "I came that they may have life and have it abundantly" (John 10:10). The wonderful story I read, the Christians freely reading God's word in dark place that needs Christ shining in it-- that abundant life can be experienced, or started, right there on a train.
m from freely flowing in the middle of the crowded morning commute. It took quite a few blinks to get them under control. Had I been alone I would have sobbed. I don't know where the time went because moments later we were pulling into my station and I was somewhat in a daze. For reasons that are patriotically obvious, I felt overcome with the urge to catch a glimpse of the Capitol before heading down into the metro system. In the rush of the morning, I briefly saw it, proudly shining in its white glory. As I went down the escalator I immediately noticed that it seemed to be empty today. Perhaps it is the calm before the coming (snow) storm, but it was nearly eerie, the silence that met me. It fit perfectly into my strange mood and all I could do on the train was ponder things bigger than I and the affect that 9/11 had on every one. To my delight I saw a woman reading her Bible-the first time I have seen that, and I was blessed by it again tonight on the way home. Most days my commute is long and somewhat boring, but today it was fulfilling and ended up encouraging. Emboldened by these strangers, I spent some time in the Word on my long ride and came upon this verse: "I came that they may have life and have it abundantly" (John 10:10). The wonderful story I read, the Christians freely reading God's word in dark place that needs Christ shining in it-- that abundant life can be experienced, or started, right there on a train. 
love the pic!
ReplyDelete