None Higher than Truth.

Out of gas.

I stop at a station on my way back to the office from a meeting about a client. I am overwhelmed lately by a desire to abandon the way the world works to serve a purpose that is becoming abundantly clear. Yet I continue doing what those before me in recent history have done. I show up to work that does not feed me because I must pay the bills. I make the best of it. I serve.

I wonder if I make too big a deal of what I feel is my calling. I pray and ask God for the ability to take my energy and focus it where I am, at this job, to be helpful. Inside, I am usually arguing in prayer.

God says, "It's time for you to focus on my specific work."

And I say, "I can't pay my bills if I turn my full attention to that."

And God says, "Trust me. I have a mission for only you."

And I groan, uncertain if this is a CALLING, or if I am being immature to imagine a life where I can use my story, my design and technology skills, my teaching, counseling, and performance experience, and my heart for service to build a livelihood for my wife and I. I wanted to serve in ministry before I went to Los Angeles to pursue fame. The seminary fought my entrance because of who I love. Critical voices of doubt always win by taking my full and excited childlike heart and sending it to a corner. "Stop it! BEHAVE!"

I abandon the line of thinking as immature and I ask God for the strength to focus on gratitude for the job that I have, which by the way, is also not paying the bills adequately.

While I am having this inner conversation, I vaguely hear the man who is checking out in front of me ask for the bathroom before he takes his things and walks out the front door.

I step up to be greeted by an awkward, thin 20-something male. "hello", he says quietly into his chest. He scans my bottle of water.

"beep!"

"Excuse me", I say, "Do you have a bathroom I can use?"

"No public bathrooms, sorry", he says.

He cans my coffee. "beep!"

"Oh, thank you", I say. I look around and realize there are no signs in this small space suggesting there is a bathroom. I feel immediately sorry for bothering him with a question that held such an obvious answer. The room is quiet.

I notice that he is paused and looking me over. It doesn't feel threatening, or offensive. It feels childlike, curious.

As I hand him money, our hands touch and he continues to study me in his pause. Holding my money near the closed register, he is unaware that he is scanning me. Then he hits a key that sends the register shooting out toward him in a violent "vwoo-crsh!" He doesn't startle.

His eyes are on his hands as he counts out my change. He says into his chest "OM?" It feels like he is talking to me.

"Excuse me?" I offer.

He looks up at me now, appearing hopeful. "Your symbol", he says quietly and points to his neck. I realize he is referring to my necklace. I smile, feeling connection. "Yes, OM."

"Like the India?" he says.

"Yes, sir." I smile. "OM".

The transaction continues in silence for a few seconds, after which he defeats his own shyness and meets my eyes. "You need bathroom? I have bathroom."

"You have a bathroom?"

"Yes." He motions gently that I leave my things on the counter near his register and waves for me to follow him.

"Oh. Thank you." I am so grateful to go to the bathroom after drinking 3 waters at the meeting. I have a 45 minute drive back, by the way.

The young man leads me through the store, back through the stock area and outside to a small private employee parking and trash area. He points to the bathroom door. It is accessible only this way. It is open. And he is gone.

My heart is surging in the connection brought by a symbol. His name tag says Guri.

I vow to remember him. Confirmation for sure, but of what?

When I return to the counter he is involved in counting the cigarette inventory behind his register. I pause. "Guri", he turns from his task and barely looks at me, but he does. "Thank you", I say, nodding a Namasté pose that I hope is as universal as the symbol on my neck. I grab my things and a small smile finds the courage to take residence on his cautious face.

His eyes become bold and meet mine.

He nods slightly.

"God show me. Help me. Show me. Help me."

I behave.