Mark’s bag

I can still see him – though it’s been 25 years.

His round, blue John Lennon glasses.

Those long dreadlocks and that silly grin.

Waiting for a cup of coffee at the hostel I worked at. That was Mark’s routine. Mark, my English friend, who started each day with a cup of coffee – and then went out to busk until he had enough money for his first smoke of the day.

After his smoke break, he would busk again until he could pay for that night’s lodging at our hostel – a little youth hostel on the edge of the light district, where we talked of Jesus and His love with hundreds of travelers from around the world. Some became good friends. Like my friend, Mark.

One day, Mark didn’t make enough money for what he needed that day. So he asked if I would buy his backpack to help cover what he owed.

Mark, where are you now? I used your backpack until I couldn’t any more. It symbolized a wild longing to travel the world, and for a time I needed to stop. The reasons are hard to put in simple words. All I can say right now is that my God knew my heart and He knew I needed to wait.

And so I waited, with your backpack tucked away in my basement. All these years I waited until my heart started to numb a bit.

But then the winds began to stir, and new life began to spring up in a place that had been locked away for so long.

And tomorrow I board a plane to bring me back to a place I thought I may never see again.This time, I have a family with me. An amazing husband and 3 fellow traveler children who are as tall as I am these days.

I bought new bags for each of my family. But I carry your bag, Mark. It is old, and I can still see the remnants of your name scrawled across the top. I carry it for old adventures and new.

“See, I am doing a new thing” He boldly declares. (ISAIAH 43:19) My God is always doing new things in our hearts, but we don’t always see them. Today, I carry your bag,, Mark, and I feel the new thing with every breath. I hardly know how to grasp what it all means, but my God will make it clear.

This story has many tributaries – and it won’t all be told at once. But tomorrow, I carry Mark’s bag, and I remember your laughter and your blue John Lennon glasses. And I smile. and I thank Jesus.

I remember … while I discover the new thing.