Calcutta Calling

In my younger years, I often dreamed of traveling to faraway lands, of becoming a famous newspaper columnist, of marrying a prince and living in a castle in Scotland. As it turns out, the farthest place I've traveled to was Mexico ... this blog is the closest I will come to writing a column, and I don't get paid for it and am certainly not famous ... I've been divorced for 17 years, and I live in a small house in Kansas. But ... but ... but ... I wouldn't trade the life I've had for all the dreams in the world, if for no other reason than my three wonderful kiddos.

This evening on my walk, I was deep in thought when I heard someone asking if she could pet Oliver. I looked up to see two nuns smiling at me and reaching their hands toward Ollie. I smiled in return and told them Ollie was a very friendly little guy, and he wagged his tail furiously as they petted him. Then one of them pulled a camera from the pocket of her robe and asked if she could take a photo. Though I thought the request was a bit odd, I agreed and offered to take a picture of the two of them with my little hound. Instead, they wanted me in the picture, too, and they traded places with each other standing next to me while I held Oliver.

We stood and talked for a while, and the sweet smiling nuns told me they were from Calcutta, India, and are here working in a hospital to learn medical skills to take home with them to help others in their country. They spoke about Mother Teresa and the work that she did for the people that society rejected ... the lepers, the babies with AIDS, the mentally handicapped, the homeless. They shared their own vision for ministering to the children of Calcutta ... children who live in despicable poverty, children who suffer from unimaginable diseases, children who have never known what real love is.

As we parted, both Sister Widgi and Sister Lucia hugged me and thanked me for talking with them and letting them spend time with Ollie. Walking toward home, I fell deep into thought once again, but instead of thinking about all that I needed to accomplish over the weekend, whether or not I would need surgery on my shoulder, my daughter's upcoming wedding, or the work week ahead ... instead I thought of the children of Calcutta, of my friends Thane and Charlotte who recently moved to Africa as full-time missionaries, of Sister Widgi and Sister Lucia.

I've thought often over the last year and a half that I've been walking the trail about the people that God has allowed me to meet along the way. And I'm sure ... beyond sure, in fact ... that not one of those meetings has been by chance or accident, but instead divine appointments by a Father who not only loves me, but One who knows all my dreams from the past, One who holds all my dreams of today, and One who plans all my dreams for the future.