Sometimes there was a young man at the park, who stood in the very center of the ball fields encircled by my path. I never saw his face, just his hefty form in heavy clothes and the large adult-sized scooter he lugged along at his side. I wondered about him as I passed and smiled as I imagined him riding his scooter to the park, perhaps from the apartments nearby, for the same afternoon sky, peace and connection I sought.
One day as I entered that wide circle I saw him, sans scooter, standing at the end of a third baseline fence close to the path. He soon saw me and began walking at an angle toward the same far corner I was headed. I felt a little tremble inside. Though I had never once feared him, I was uneasy anticipating this unusual intersection. I kept walking and tried to keep my peace. When my steps on the path were even with his on the field, he suddenly turned and ran straight at me.
So I prayed. I didn’t want to run. I didn’t want to yell. I didn’t know the young man, but I didn’t believe he meant me harm. So as he barreled toward me, yelling words I couldn’t understand, I kept walking peacefully and prayed that I wouldn’t be injured by the impact. When his feet hit the path, he turned slightly and zoomed by my face, then around behind me. I didn’t look back, I just walked on. A lady’s voice called to him far across the field. He lumbered to her car and they drove away.
Make every effort to live in peace with everyone and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord. Hebrews 12:14
Meeting God at the Park 