Here & Now

I’ve been taking evening walks to our local estuary. Benches are scattered throughout the estuary, and I like that I can frequently sit and rest. It appears as though I’m stopping to observe nature. Of course, I do make observations, but that’s often secondary to resting.

The wounded goose was back tonight, nibbling on grass and limping. Seven other geese swam out in the water, diving for food. I like to think they numbered seven because that accounted for the wounded goose’s mate. The whole flock hung together, sticking with the wounded one. High tide had recently flooded in, depositing a slimy mass of seaweed, sticks, and leaves on the water outside the mouth of the creek. One goose swam right into it.

“Ick,” I thought. “Who wants to swim in that?” And then the flock followed, right into the muck.

I thought of the poster that says, “A good friend will bail you out of jail. A best friend will be sitting next to you and say, ‘Man, we messed up.’” It’s a level of commitment few choose.

A good friend will bail you out of jail. A best friend will be sitting next to you and say, ‘Man, we messed up.’”

I have such a group of committed friends. Years ago, we started as a kind of book club; at least, that’s what we called it. Now it may be a kind of a study group, kind of a prayer group, or an accountability group. We don’t have a good definition of what we are, but we meet, read, and discuss life and God. Authenticity has been the bedrock of our relationship.

One night we were meeting at a friend’s home. Near the end of the gathering, my emotions were running high. Tears welled up, and I could tell it had the potential to plunge into a minor breakdown. We had promised the host’s family we would all leave on time, so I planned an exit strategy. I excused myself and ducked into the tiny powder room to clean up and gain composure. Instead, a friend followed me in. Right into my personal space. Right into my breakdown. Ushered me back to the group where the flock swam in.

Good geese, friends.