Puppeteering

The large man sitting in front of me moved slightly to his left. The move was a small one, but with it he blocked my view. So, I repositioned a little to the right in order to see the speaker we had come to hear. The man meant no disrespect and likely was unaware that his every move affected my view of the stage. Each move of his head, or shoulders, or arms prompted an adjustment to my own posture. I was in bondage to this large stranger who occupied the seat in front of mine.

Lamenting the distraction from the speaker, my mind drifted from his words into the small space in which my body was placed. I felt the part of a puppet, unable to control my own movements, and this stranger in front of me was the puppeteer. With each movement he made, I moved too.

And what about those behind me or beside me, I wondered. Were they prompted to move when I did? Could the movement of one large man create waves of movement in the entire auditorium? The thought of such a scene captured my mind.

I envisioned a sea of people shifting like waves, each move producing another, all begun by an unknowing puppeteer that placed it all in motion. Then I began to wonder. Once I am freed from bondage of the stranger, might my independent movements in life dictate responses from those around me? Might I be puppeteering too?

It’s an interesting question to ask. And the answer I found for me was profound!

Our lives are bonded together into one body just as tiny drops bond to form great oceans. The movement of a single drop inspires rolling waves that find their way to shore only to retreat beneath the surf to form new waves perhaps in different places. Some waves will bring peaceful sounds and renewed freshness to the seashore. Others though produce angry waters that batter the land with stormy destruction.

And so it is with our lives. Each move we make arouses motion in those around us. We are all puppeteers. The things we do can come ashore with refreshing peace, or they can strike like a destructive storm. So, we must watch ourselves. The movements we make matter to those around us.

Some might change the world.

You are the light of the world,

Richard +

www.reflectingthesavior.org