Under a Mango Tree

its hard to believe i have been in canada almost a year now….its hard to believe the last three years have just happened…. its been so long since i have sat down, since i have let my mind go and the thoughts invade every inch, every crevis. loves lost, loves gained, hopes found, blood spilled, anger stilled, mercy given, revenge taken. where do you begin when you have a list of beginnings and endings? it was December 2010, i was living in Mityana Uganda. a team had come from Australia to run children's camps, and help with administration in the school. i reluctantly went with my roommate to the school to help. when we got there i couldn't do it. i had no desire to play with kids or socialize. so i snuck away. i have always been good at disappearing. its not a hard skill, its actually rather easy for me. i walked down the hill; alone along the broken red dirt road, i walked a road i had never been on before. as i walked the city began to fade behind me and give way to a more wild side. the trees began to be taller, more dense. i was given odd looks from the locals here and there. as i walked i saw what used to be a track for a train, now rusted and being retaken by the dirt. weeds and thorns snaked over them pulling the iron back towards the earth, choking any life those tracks had in them. as i walked along the tracks i got lost in my head, in the beauty of the brokeness of the tracks. each step was placed with such determination, each breath exhaled slowly, each noise echoing within my head. on and on the tracks ran, for miles, into the jungle, towards some distance destination, a home of sorts….a home….something i haven't known in a long time.. what is a home? what defines it? as i walked i caught sight of another pilgrim, a young man on a bike, he greeted me with a smile, we talked for awhile about life as a white man in africa and life as a young teacher in uganda. the words echo in my head. "let not the world change you, but be the change the world so desperately needs to see, no matter the cost, no matter the pain" how do you be the change in a world so full of problems? i could bring this one man out of poverty but for what purpose? what gain? its just one man…. i continued my walk, i found the road again and snaked along farther into the denseness. i passed a women who gave me a mango, to which i thanked her…."what is it to be the change?" i clutched the mango in my hands and bit into the skin without washing it, the juice drowned my mouth in sweet refreshment. the fiber of the fruit clung to my teeth refusing to release me from it. as i walked along more i thought about my life, my future, about this word change….i became so lost in my thoughts when i wondered out of them i had no idea were i was. i was surrounded by the forest, i was in the shade… i stopped and just stood there….a single spark could change the landscape all around me in a moment. all it would take is one spark…… i have this theory, i don't know how true it is, but its something i like to think. all around us, everyday there are moments, moments we come into contact with an angel, with someone that isn't, but is human. as i turned to walk home i came upon a house i had simple walked by before, it had a beautiful well kept lawn, and a giant mango tree out front. and there tending his garden was a man who was in his 70-80s he said hi and i said hi, it was rude not to. he asked me; "come, let us converse with each other" so i came to him and we talked, i can't tell you what we talked about, but i can tell you i miss him. i miss what we talked about. he spoke perfect english, he told me of his family and his wife who had passed, his life here, his home. never once did he ask me for money, or ask me about my wealth (of which there was none). his tired old face, his eyes, they spoke volume upon volume, this man had seen more of the world on this small lawn then i had seen in every continent and country i had stepped foot on. again it was may this time, 2011, i was running security at a medical clinic, i was doing my "rounds" a women caught my eye and i looked to find an old women with a leather bound face, and eyes full of history staring at me. how i desperately wanted to just sit with her and listen. what stories lay behind those blue eyes? and then there is David, papa David. i have never written about david to my knowledge, and to write about him is an honour i don't deserve, but one i have been given…. and i thank the person that gave me that ability from the bottom of my heart… David passed away around may of 2012, and i was angry with him for it. what right did he have to abandon me, to abandon his loved ones when we needed him so badly……. what a foolish thought i had.. i miss you david, i miss you more then i will miss anyone or anything in this world. i can't even say your name without desiring to cry. the last conversation we had we stood at a balcony and you asked me what was wrong in that british accent. i told you i didn't think i could make it 6 months in africa alone….. you pointed out at the night and pointed towards the lake and the congo and you said simply "my dear joel, think of the wonder of what is before you, no one will ever see this moment, or share in it with you and me. no one will ever see the lights of the cities in the congo from this moment, is that not worth it?" i'm haunted by these three people daily. sometimes i can just see the eyes of the man under the tree and i can hear him saying, come converse with me. won't you please take a moment to step off your path and come talk to me? is your life so busy that you can't stop for a moment under this mango tree and tell me your story, let me tell you mine… how many times is god like this? how many times has god come to us and just said, child, won't you just come share in this moment with me? won't you forget the world and just come and lay your head on my shoulder… feel the warmth of my arms wrapped around you? won't you step out of your life and into my arms? the problem is sometimes we get so caught up in our own lives we forget to be the change in the world…..and sometimes that change starts with simply pulling over, and stepping off the path… sometimes it means spending thousands to travel across the world to have just one conversation. sometimes it means having the faith to walk up to that person in the coffee shop., or having the courage to tell someone to just breath…sometimes it means taking those last few dollars in your pocket and buying someone else food… we often think the only way we can change the world is big. is spending lots of money and helping lots of people, but what if the world is made up of small little worlds called humans? what if actually changing the world is having the courage to just change one life, maybe even your own? we i have two thoughts, what is change, and the second, maybe more important….. won't you just stop? and converse? won't you please just breath. i'm not saying this, this is what i feel god says to so many of us, won't you just come and talk to me, come spend time with me, don't read your bible, don't read a self help book, don't listen to a motivational song, but won't you simple come and sit beside me. won't you just talk to me, and tell me a story, be vulnerable before me?