'What has been and what is to be- already is.
And God holds accountable all the pursuits of humanity.'
Pockets are made for rocks and stuff- every little boy knows this to be true; the little boy in me knows this to be true every time I go for a walk. There will always be, I suppose, the 'perfect' pebble waiting patiently for me... I remember my Mom complaining of "pebbles? in the clothes dryer, again?!"
Sometimes, when I think about pocket stuff, I think about Mr. Durisko, my childhood Sunday School teacher. He had a gentle way of teaching. I wonder what he thought about my friends and me- a rowdy mess of boys. He never raised his voice. His kindness was consistent. Parker Palmer said, "...good teaching cannot be reduced to technique; good teaching comes from the identity and integrity of the teacher."
Mr. Durisko was a good teacher.
I was older, Jr. High I think, when the phone call came. It was a Wednesday night- prayer meeting night. After the meeting Mrs. Durisko stayed at the church for choir practice while Mr. Durisko walked home. I wonder, 'What was Mr. Durisko thinking about when the drunken man veered from the road? Did the driver know he had killed a good teacher?'
I overheard my Dad tell my Mom about a note found in Mr. Durisko's wallet. It was a list: his wife's dress size, ring size, her favorite colors- important information should he want to surprise his bride with a gift.
It is a mysterious way in which our lives touch one another. Saints and sinners rummage around together, unaware of the value each holds to a Holy God.
Mr. Durisko is still teaching me about the word 'husband'. Thank you, Mr. Durisko.