I love lunch breaks in the park. The spicy sausage with sour kraut I ate today made me think of backyard cookouts in Iowa City. Sour kraut was a family favorite. While fighting through the construction noise, my friend Nate and I talked about youth group games from high school. We chuckled at memories of “Sardines” and “American Eagle”. I mentioned a game we played in Iowa called “Slaughter” and had to qualify that there weren’t any farm animals involved.
It’s times like that when I feel the most alien here in Philadelphia. It doesn’t seem all that weird to me, but I can only imagine what it sounds like to others. In fact, it’s been hard for me to find any use for much of my Midwest upbringing.
While we talked I started to reconnect with those younger days. I got a feeling like, “Wow, maybe what I did back then does have some association to the here and now.” I’ve been getting that feeling more and more in recent months. It’s been quite nice.
All it took to help me connect was a shared experience, a listening ear, and a “that’s valid” posture. Joy makes me want to preach. There was a van driving around City Hall with a megaphone shouting about a cheated carpenter’s union. I thought that picture fit nicely. I’d like to shout some good news about caring. Will you shout with me? Let someone know they’re valid today.