So, I head up on a Tuesday and check in to my room and go back out to explore. Unfortunately, by the time I got to the park to take pictures of the tulips, the rain said hello. The last thing I wanted to do was walk around in the rain with my camera, so I headed over to the bakery.
The bakery was beautiful inside. Not just the building, but the young man behind the counter was kind, professional, and full of purpose, I dare say excitement. If we all attacked our work with the realization of purpose this young man had, this world would be a wonderful place.
Armed with my oatmeal raisin cookie, I decided to go to the riverfront park the owner of Puzzles had told me about during my chat with her. Thankfully the rain had ended and I could stroll about. That is the idea I had in my head anyway.
Once I got to the park, I saw that it was very sparsely populated, down a shady looking street, and the walking path was right along the river. If there were many people there, maybe I wouldn't have been freaked out. My park mates consisted of one teen swinging on a swing set much to young for him, a burly many with a pit bull, and a meandering couple. The sum total of my surroundings and the fact that I was traveling alone made my Criminal Minds first girl killed radar go into a tizzy. I decided no cookie eating river stroll is worth the possibility of being pushed into the river by some meandering psycho dog walking swinger. I got the freak out of there.
The next day I got back to the park with the tulips. Once I was at the flower beds I pulled out my camera from my bag and realized my wallet was missing. Panic quickly subsided when I realized I must have left it in the car when I took just my wallet in the cafe to get coffee. When will I learn to always return my wallet and my keys to the same place - every time?!
 |
I reassure myself, the wallet is 90% definitely in my car, and that my car would not be broken into and I would not be stranded in Albany. I start taking pictures. The flowers were beautiful. I imagine myself in Holland. Children play in a large wooden shoe replica and I swear I hear them speaking Dutch to one another. A bucolic respite amidst the hubbub of Albany.
Now, I realize to some traveling alone is their worst nightmare. I have to say, I find an over night trip of exploring a different place really interesting. Any longer than a day there and back and I feel strange because the only conversations are with people serving you. The hotel workers, food servers, ticket takers, etc. The occasional chat with a stranger is fine, but no real deep meaningful connection there.
I also realize that to the family with the small children playing in the wooden shoe, they might be wondering why someone is alone with a camera, taking pictures that may or may not have their children captured in the background. Being mindful of the composition of my shots and the direction I am facing, I find the task of getting any wide angle shots nearly impossible. That is nearly impossible without looking like a creeper. So, I get some close flower shots and take in the beauty for a moment, and start walking back to my car.
Moments after I leave Holland, I see a man cutting across the grass walking toward me. I think he is a landscaper at first, but I quickly realize he is homeless. He approaches having pulled out two of the longest and whitest tube socks I have ever seen. For a quick second I think to myself, he is going to strangle you with those. Then he puts them neatly away in his pockets.
"Ma'am, can I ask you a question?" (Note he called me ma'am! Et tu homeless guy?!!!!)
"What's Up?" making sure I am keeping my distance.
"I gotta get out of this city."
I say, "Okay..."
"Yeah, I gotta get out of Albany, I feel like the devil is keeping me here, you know?"
"Okay, what is your question?" Sometimes I am literal to a fault.
"I just gotta get out of here man." I wish for ma'am.
Finally realizing, "Oh, I don't have my wallet with me."
He looks at me with the disappointment of someone hurt by the actions of another with whom they actually have a relationship.
"Isn't that convenient for you, you know, you just summed up what the whole problem is with Albany."
"I honestly don't have my wallet with me. Are there places that can help you?"
"Oh, people like you love to bring that up don't you? Let someone else take care of the problem. You never helped a person a day in your life!"
"Honestly Sir, you don't know me." I begin to walk away.
I hear him shouting as he walks the other direction, "Your parents raised you this way. You @&*$*%& @%#$&, you don't care about anyone but yourself!"
I am walking to my car more quickly now, muttering to myself how fascist this guy is. I sat in my car, looked for my wallet, it was there. I looked to see where the man was. He was far away from me now. I scour the landscape for the ever elusive John Quinones, once again, he is not there.
Driving away, I begin thinking about the strange experience and how funny it is that I wasn't scared. I mean, once he put the socks away I didn't think he would harm me, even though he was angry. And then I thought it was strange that I wasn't angry. He said I didn't help people, yada, yada, yada, how dare he? He doesn't know me. Really, he was just mad he didn't get what he wanted. If it wasn't me, it would have been anyone else.
And then I remembered what he said about the devil keeping him in Albany. The devil does try to keep us in places we don't want to be. He tries to accuse us of things that at one time, may have been true about us. He tries to remind us of past wrongs we've done or the good things we should have done. He uses whatever he can use to get us focused on ourselves, then we are rendered useless to do good.
At one time, it would have been true I didn't help people and I only cared about myself. And truthfully, sometimes that is still true. But there is a beautiful picture of rest that comes in knowing who you are, knowing whose you are, and knowing accusations don't prove guilt. There is rest in knowing any dirt the devil wants to sling at me, isn't mine to deal with anymore. I gave it to Jesus, and He's taken care of it all. The devil is just mad he doesn't get what he wants. And when he gets angry and starts to yell at me, and accuse me of things that may or may not be true, all I can do is say, honestly sir, you don't know me, and walk away. All the while knowing I am robbed in whitest white courtesy of the blood of Jesus.
Rev. 12:1-12
10 Then I heard a loud voice in heaven say:
“Now have come the salvation and the power
and the kingdom of our God,
and the authority of his Messiah.
For the accuser of our brothers and sisters,
who accuses them before our God day and night,
has been hurled down.
11 They triumphed over him
by the blood of the Lamb
and by the word of their testimony;
they did not love their lives so much
as to shrink from death.
12 Therefore rejoice, you heavens
and you who dwell in them!
But woe to the earth and the sea,
because the devil has gone down to you!
He is filled with fury,
because he knows that his time is short.”
and the kingdom of our God,
and the authority of his Messiah.
For the accuser of our brothers and sisters,
who accuses them before our God day and night,
has been hurled down.
11 They triumphed over him
by the blood of the Lamb
and by the word of their testimony;
they did not love their lives so much
as to shrink from death.
12 Therefore rejoice, you heavens
and you who dwell in them!
But woe to the earth and the sea,
because the devil has gone down to you!
He is filled with fury,
because he knows that his time is short.”
If you ever get to Albany, I hope you enjoy the flowers and the beautiful capitol. And if you should hap upon a homeless man with the whitest tube socks this side of the Mississippi, please tell him I say hey, my parents are well, thank you.
© 2015 Stacy Rapp
