I forgot. Completely.
I was so engrossed in the million details of getting my own and my son’s visas, packing for two people on two continents with two climates, closing on our house, wrapping up with my team for two weeks, and preparing for the meetings I would have in Germany and India, that I didn’t have two spare thoughts to rub together.
Until this morning, when the nervous cacophony of the streets of India buzzed in my face like a fly. Spent, I slumped silently in the left front seat of the tiny white stick shift as Ramesh coolly weaved like a weaver’s shuttle, in and out of musically honking buses, boldly crossing pedestrians, sacred black cows, three-wheeled auto-rickshaws, and urgent masses of every size and type of motorcycle known to man, all coughing black exhaust clouds.
And then I remembered, completely, how overwhelming it is, India. 1.24 Billion people. My throat constricted, my heart sped up — and I just marveled at those who work here, for God. And I marveled at the God who calls them to do it.
How can you see those teeming masses, literally all around you, and not become completely hopeless? It seems endless, impenetrable, an ocean to swallow the meager drop of your compassionate ambition on the ebb and then flatten your grand designs under the tidal wave of its resurgent flow.
But they haven’t fallen, they’ve grown. Not flattened, expanded. I look forward to learning how.