Good Words, Bad Words

Walking to work this morning got me to thinking about more than just little 'ol me. I always reflect on the folks around me, almost relishing the predictable encounters with DC's street people. They're harmless, I think/hope, and they each tell a story. Here's the first in a series of observations that lead me deeper in the wonderment of God's vision of us and His bewildering way of teaching us about ourselves.

'Ingrid': That's the name I've given the pleasant but tortured woman who walks diligently past me as she scurries off to some daily important appointment with life. Ingrid has a noticeable Tourrette's issue. Yes, "issue" not "problem." Our dear friends from AF days past have a son, Shawn, with this issue and he's now 21 and well on his way to overcoming the life challenges and familial heartache it caused. Calling it a problem demeans the person, I think, and distracts us from the person living within this strange shell. Ingrid has her good days, when she's just a bit disheveled and harried looking, to the days when 'the bark' has her under its sway and everyone shies away from this outlandish person. I wonder if they ever see her eyes and know someone inside there also suffers at this ill-founded ostracism, of being looked at like some unhinged freak. It's only right that I don't shy away or stare when she's passing by. He has given her a tough path to walk and the observers of life like me probably are supposed to watch, learn and grow. I don't know what we'd do to help her but hope that she has loved ones who look out for her. Walk on, Ingrid, and let's hope we can share something from your walks through our lives.