Face to Face in an Ink-Infested World:

"Having many things to write to you, I did not wish to do so with paper and ink; but I hope to come to you and speak face to face, that our joy may be full." John, 2 John 12.

True Story:

Last year, I did not own a car. I was on the train heading back home from a busy day in town. I was doing the usual, watching people carefully (I do this all the time, I try to guess what the stories are behind the people). Everyone definitely has a story, so when I get on the train I become a "people-watcher." I steal short glances around quietly, so as to try not to be rude. I match-make the couples sitting next to each other, and if there are kids seated behind them, I assume those are their kids. If there's a man sitting beside them, I assume he's their uncle, if there's a woman with a baby I assume she is a single mum, and so on and so forth. It becomes like a game.

On this particular day I had to transfer from the train to a bus to take me home. I ran straight to my bus, paid my fare and sat down. I started watching people again. Several more people got on the bus, but the one guy I noticed was a thin Indian-looking bald-headed elderly guy. He was the last person to get on. He scrambled in his pocket for the money, but did not find sufficient change. He started to explain to the bus driver that he didn't have enough, but the driver wouldn't hear of it. So I got up, went to the front of the bus, and paid the remaining fare. The guy smiled at me and said "thank you so much."
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I thought it was over until I went back to my seat. But there was this other woman who had been watching the scene play out too.

"That man will never forget what you did for the rest of his life," she whispered in my ears.

I just smiled and continued looking out the window. But she wanted to talk, so I obliged.

"I write poetry," she said.

"You do? That's really nice."

"Take a look at this manuscript. I'm trying to get a publisher for my poems."

"That's great. I write too, but not poetry," I responded.

"Look at this poem, in fact read it. It's about my daughter."

I read the poem and it was a really moving one. Before I got off the bus I gave her my phone number in case she needed to talk to someone. Trust me, she DID call. She made use of it. We talked a couple of times after that, but there was this day when she called me saying, "I really want to talk to you about something. Can we meet somewhere?" I thought about all the dangers of meeting strangers, so I picked a public place where there'd be a lot of other people--I chose Starbucks. We ended up not meeting anyway, but when I read that scripture this morning I remembered that woman who wanted to meet me so badly.

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There's something about a face-to-face meeting in an ink-infested world. As much as technology has risen up today, with all the social media in the limelight, when I read John's statement today I realized that one cannot say everything with ink and paper (or by typing on a blog).

Now, taking this thought even further and explaining it in terms of our relationship with God, we cannot have a non-personal encounter with Him. It cannot be through hear-say or by reading about Him. It has to be through a face-to-face experience with Him.

You can spend a lot of time reading blogs, or even reading the bible. But there has to come a time when you pause for a moment and witness God for yourself. Through a face-to-face interaction you will begin to write pages about Him for yourself. You will begin to have your own personal stories, without the aid of anyone else.

There's nothing like a face-to-face experience in an ink-infested world, with God...and also with other people.

Are you more of a face-to-face person, or would you rather depend on indirect means of communication? How would you relate this to your relationship with God? Tell me about it. Post your thoughts.
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P.S: Hey guys, watch out for My "Guest Blogger Friday Post" coming up this Friday. The guest blogger is an author whose book is to be released on March 1st, literally next week. Stay cool!

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