Weaving Life's Tapestry

There are many times in our lives when we ask the question, "Why?" Why did this happen and not that? Why did this happen to me? Why did this happen now? Why did I make a left turn instead of a right on that particular day? Why? Why? Why? Asking why is a particularly human thing to do.

I am not a philosopher nor am I overly religious. I can't ever come up with a good reason why a specific event unfolds in the manner it does. My mother or someone who is equally faithful would say, "Well, that's just the Lord's will." And, it probably is. That explanation, though, has always been unsatisfying for me, not because I don't believe in God, but because it's so difficult for me as a human being to accept the thought that there are many, many things that occur in my life that I have no control over. I like to think that this is a normal, human reaction on my part, but I do admit that it's one that probably labels me as "not quite as good" a Christian as some others.

Anyway, I was given a gift of opportunity recently to think back on a series of events in my life and see why certain things worked out the way they did. I had a conversation with an old friend, P., whom I had not had contact with in many, many years. In fact, this particular friend was an old boyfriend, a guy whom I dated briefly in college. I "bumped into" P. again through Facebook. On a whim and in reference to a conversation I was having with my brother, I searched P's name on Facebook and was startled when his profile with a photo of his handsome, smiling face popped up. The fact that this handsome, smiling man was standing next to a beautiful, smiling woman wasn't lost on me and it tickled my sense of familiarity.

At any rate, I sent P. a little note exclaiming that I was so happy to find him and asking if he remembered me. He replied later that yes, he did remember me, but that it took some looking through my photos to jog his memory. We exchanged a series of e-mails in which I gave him some background on myself and what I had done with my life in the last 20+ years and he did the same. He asked at one point if we had dated, which left me a little nonplussed, but then, you know, my memory's not so great either, so, it would be unfair for me to judge him too harshly for not recalling events that occurred almost 30 years ago. I mean, I like to think of myself as memorable, but I have been humbled on more than one occasion to find that, alas, I'm not. Oh, well.

In the course of our conversation, P. asked me how we had met and I recounted the story of a study session with some mutual friends that he happened upon in one of the university's many study areas, his subsequent introduction to me and my breathless delight at his charm and wit. I was 18 years old and from Tomball, Texas, y'all. A charming, urbane, witty guy showed me some attention, and I became a bit breathless. I'm easy that way. Sue me.

As I recalled this brief strand of time that occurred during my youth, I started thinking how P., although a relatively minor player in my life overall, actually had a huge impact on how the tapestry of my life was subsequently knit together. P. introduced me to a group of friends with whom he frequently socialized, one of whom, C., later became a boyfriend of mine with whom I was totally besotted but who subsequently broke my heart.

While I was dating C. and was deep in the throes of being besotted and smitten and totally goo goo eyed, he introduced me to Jeff. Or, rather, Jeff introduced himself. Or rather, Jeff thrust himself upon the two of us, helplessly imploring that we assist him in studying for an upcoming Chemistry final, which we begrudgingly did simply because we couldn't think of a polite way to tell him to shove off because we wanted to be alone. Like a fly that buzzes through a perfect spring picnic, this guy, Jeff, was truly annoying.

Eventually, however, C. grew tired of me and I bid him a tearful, heart rending farewell.

So, then, history happened. Events transpired. Years passed.

And, Jeff and I grew up, got married and had two beautiful, perfect children. Together.

For many years, I have mistakenly attributed my introduction to the love of my life to the man who broke my heart. To appreciate how the entire strand of events came together, though, I need to go back to before my heart was rended asunder. In the beginning, there was just a friend who introduced me to another friend who introduced me to another friend. Kind of a six degrees of separation thing. And, that strand was woven into the fabric of my life, made more beautiful by memory and more precious by the anticipation of what happens next. (The fact that Jeff now teaches Chemistry to high schoolers amuses me to no end. It's one of the great ironies of life and proves that God, in His infinite wisdom, has a wicked sense of humor.)


And, now, I look back on that time so long ago and say, "Oh. That's why."