Two days ago, there was a moment when something happened that just kept coming back to me. You know those moments that seem to have the weight of significance to them? The ones which stick in your mind and replay over and over and cause you to search them closely to find the secret message? That was this moment.
That day, I was driving down my sister's street and, as I passed her next-door neighbor's house, I saw the neighbor's little boy in the front yard. As I passed, this little nine- or ten-year-old black boy looked up from his work and gave a friendly wave. I waved back and went on to my sister's, but the image of that sweet innocent little face and his open and friendly wave stuck in my head. I told my sister about it and how it reminded me of riding through the countryside and how the locals all wave when they pass one another. Later, after I left my sister's, I found myself smiling and waving at people in their yards. A couple waved back; some looked confused, even suspicious.
I just kept thinking how we need to bring back that open friendliness to our world. The fact that he was black and I am white seemed significant. As I thought about it more the next morning, words started coming together and thoughts and phrases began to take shape.
When I looked at that sweet little face, it was as if he reached out and touched me with his wave, immediately drawing my full attention. He reached across the great divide in our country and his brown hand touched my whiteness. His touch connected with me on a deep level, and everything else around me faded away.
I was reminded of an exercise I heard a few months back. I was told to imagine myself standing on the side of the road with all the traffic whizzing by. In my imagination, I was totally aware of all the cars, the noise, the "busy-ness". Then I was told to glance across the street and see that Jesus was standing there watching me. When our eyes met, He smiled, and then He waved. Suddenly, in my mind, all the traffic, noise, and busy-ness just faded away, and all I saw was Jesus. And I smiled back. And I waved. And that morning, as I imagined it, I realized that it would have been a brown hand waving at me. Jesus was a Middle-Easterner.
