2nd
On My Heart and Mind - An Encounter with a Very Important Person
I was on my front porch the middle of last week, taking care of the last details for hosting houseguests. After an afternoon of washing the linens, rearranging books and knick-knacks, vacuuming and then hiding all the cleaning supplies that were not manufactured by Procter & Gamble (my brother-in-law works for them), I was filthy. Such was my state as I watered flowers and swept spider-webs from the front porch eaves. Such was my state when former President Bill Clinton appeared on the sidewalk in front of our house.
Our conversation began with a simple “hi.” He called me “Reverend” and I called him “President”. He explained that he was trying to walk off some of the weight he’d gained on the campaign trail this Spring. As we spoke about diner food in Puerto Rico and South Dakota, Lily and Lincoln came around the corner of the house with Maria in tow. The Secret Service agent who had been standing a few yards away seemed at ease, but stepped a little closer with the appearance of a three-year old girl and the 140-pound black dog that accompanied her.
I took Lily by the hand and attempted to introduce her to the man she and Lincoln had walked right past. Here was one of the most powerful persons in the world, but none of the words she knew for a significant male seemed appropriate—I could not introduce him as “Grandpa,” “Uncle,” “Doctor,” “Pastor,” “Prince” or even “Daddy’s friend.” So, I said, “Lily, I’d like for you to meet President Clinton.” Before I could say, “Can you say, ‘Hello’?” her hand had slipped from my grip and she was with Lincoln looking into the bushes.
I offered somewhat of an apology and explained that there was a stray kitten hanging around that commanded the attention of both girl and dog. We continued our conversation by speaking of Bobby Kennedy’s Newfoundland “Brumis” and a friend of Maria’s who works for the Clinton Global Initiative.
The Bible teaches us that God is “no respecter of persons” (Acts 10:34). We have developed highly sophisticated mechanisms of language and decorum to convey the significance of certain office-holders. Perhaps the lesson we are to learn from our encounters with three-year olds and dogs, is a lesson about God’s view of us, a view unimpressed by the titles and marked by unconditional love.
Someday Lily will learn about the forty-second President of the United States of America and I will tell her about the time she met him on her own front lawn. By then, she’ll probably be even less impressed, rolling her eyes and sighing at her lame-duck father. I imagine she will always remember the deep affection she experienced with Lincoln Duncan, her first dog.
I have been humbled many times these past few weeks of living with our little girl; I am glad I could share this gift with the child of God who stopped for conversation on our front lawn, even if I will continue to call him “President.”
