Thankful for Mercy

This weekend was my twenty year highschool class reunion. What a wave of emotions and memories!

"Stephen, how are you!" Steve's nickname was "beachball" from fifth grade. He remained overweight and often marginalized throughout school, though less so in highschool. A pretty decent guy, though. "Oh..." he's obviously thinking while he's drinking..."I guess I'm okay. Just okay." He tells me about his life, he drives delivery truck and enjoys the freedom of not being a cubicle. I want to hear more about it, and come to know this person I spent 8 years with and never discovered. But someone else comes by, and Steve's attention turns to them, and I move on.

Brian is talking to Marie. I wonder if Brian is still struggling with drugs and alcohol. He was fairly bright in school and good at drama, but there was some trouble at home and his life got pretty crazy after graduation, I heard. Marie was very bright, but silly and flitty. She is moving on after a recent divorce, trying out a new church when her old friends didn't know how to deal with her divorced state. She asks Brian, "So, what do you do?" He is giving her evasive answers--seems to think his job is too complicated for her to understand. She finally convinces him of her interest and he exclaims, "Why Marie, when did you become so literary!" Marie is annoyed: "I'm not just Moe's little sister! I did learn how to read, you know!" I pass by.

I settled with my plate at a table with Lisa. She's looking very pretty with a hair color I don't remember and a dress that definately isn't 80's. "I don't remember reading your bio on the website, " I begin. She says, "Oh, I didn't want to post my litany of relational failures." She's witty and open about two divorces and being a single mom. I throw out a name of a boy from our french class that we both flirted with and teased. She says, "Oh, I lost my virginity to him! I was 14. That was the beginning of the downhill slide." She seems flippant, yet with pain, and I feel like I've been punched. My daughter is 13.

Kim joins us, and I groan inwardly. Kim is a bankruptcy and divorce lawyer. She is extremely bright--I competed with her constantly in school, and I think I mostly came in second to her first in just about everything. She is energetic to the point of frenetic now, and aware enough of others to ask questions but not to listen to the answers. She is a terrible gossip, and always cutting. She, too is divorced, and is ready to throw wood on the pyre of the ex-husband roast. I get up to find some food. Kim is welcome to win this round--and any other round, I don't want to play that game any more.

Cindy is laughing too loud. She finally got away from the abusive older guy that she dated all through highschool, and married Jon, if you can believe that. She looks beautiful, and is telling the same story of giving birth "naturally!" that she was telling at the 10 year reunion. I avoid her.

Finally, I get a chance to settle down with several classmates who are discussing education. Trixie sat next to me in band. I remember her as down to earth, laid back, with a warm sense of humor. Tonight, she is emphatically recounting the struggles with the school district that she has waged to get her children what they need. She's wearing make-up, which she never used to do, and her hair is no longer soft and free. She is strong and articulate, but she says, "I'm tired."

Time changes us. And we can't go back to the time when we didn't carry so much. And so many of these people have been carrying much too much for far too long.

It isn't all a mosaic of pain, of course--some of my classmates have successful international businesses, happy marriages, or lives of service helping people in meaningful ways. But there are so many that seem to be limping along. And I was like them at 16, I was going down the same road as Lisa or Cindy or any of them. That could have been me with the abusive husband or raising my kids alone or hooking up with guy number 26. But God in his huge mercy decided to reach down and fish me out, even though I misunderstood and didn't "do it right" and still after 22 years I'm trying to grasp his love! I feel like I've had a glimpse of my life then--the twisting pangs to belong, but being awkward in my own skin. And I've had a glimpse of where I was going when God interrupted me, and I'm so thankful. I'm not worthy of what I've received, but I'm so thankful.