Monday morning I hopped on a boat to Silverdale planning to grab coffee with a friend. Dan has become a friend to many church planters in the Northwest. His passion for Jesus, people and church planting along with his gifts and unique wiring have landed him right in the middle of the world of church planting.
I love connecting with him.
Dan is an encourager.
Dan is on THE mission.
To quote Dan, "He's a total stud. I'm not ever sure what that means." (Yes, he actually uses that entire phrase.)
I am writing about the day on the island and the unexpected connections in another post. Right now I want to tell you about my trip over.
#1 - Ferry people are weird about their seat. The daily boat commuters are a tribe all their own. Preparing to leave from Seattle there were approximately 20 of us waiting to board the giant boat. Like fighting for the last seat in a life boat strapped to the side of the Titanic, these people crowd the turnstiles like the boat is already pulling away. THIS IS BEFORE IT EVEN TOUCHES THE DOCK!! I asked Dan what this was all about. He explained to me that the regulars have "their seat". And much like the sweet ladies in the second service back at CCA, they have a hard time tolerating the ride in a different seat.
#2 - If you land in a pre-owned seat, they want you to know. I would not have known this but I shared with Dan that a couple came and sat RIGHT next to me. I was in the front row, so I thought, man it filled up fast behind me. NOPE! There were about 50 empty seats all around us.
Good times on the boat.
Well, let me get to the point of this post.
#3 - As I was sitting there, uncomfortably close to my new friends, I noticed and older gentleman walking out in the front of the boat chatting with the deck hand. I would guess he was mid-seventies. I took note of him back when I walked in the terminal. He was chatting with the people at the ticket window. When we walked on he chatted with the person watching us board the boat. They all seemed to know him. He was one of those old guys with the old school jacket, some jeans a cool little hat and a worn look to his skin and features. Quite lean. He smiled a lot and laughed loud.
It became this funny, unexpected emotional moment for me. It hit me that this funny old dude was some ones little boy. I don't know any of the history, but like a film in my mind I saw parents holding their baby boy, dreaming of his future. Their potential grandchildren. My mind was spinning about what this old dude might have dreamt of as a child. What fueled him as a young man. I didn't talk to him because very quickly my mind transitioned to my own baby. It got me thinking of our little girl, Abby.
I want her to know and love Jesus. I want her to love people. I want to see her dreams come true.
I know she will wrestle with truth. I know her heart with be broken. I know she will make bad decisions.
This is the way life is. At some point we get old, we ride the ferry, and we chat with strangers hoping to make friends.
I don't want to get there and see a list of dreams become a list of regrets. (Borrowed from a quote I cant quite remember)
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