Lasting Impressions

Have you ever had a brief encounter that left a lasting impression?

I often position myself in the gospel narratives as a spectator, looking for the side story unobserved as Jesus passes by. Surely there were thousands of brief or chance interactions with Jesus by people as he walked the earth. Some were captured in the new testament, like Jesus healing the blind beggar (Luke 18:38) or Jesus looking up in the sycamore tree at Zacchaeus (Luke 19:1-10). The encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well (John 4) made the list, but I’m sure there were hundreds of others. Those are the ones I like to visualize, imagining Jesus as He was. What was it like? When He brightened the spirit of a forgotten widow with a smile, or when an intentional glance communicated more than words, or when a twinkled wink drew out a bashful little face watching behind his mother’s apron strings. Jesus was certainly a man of all seasons, if ever there was one. 

I remember a moment in the summer of 1991 at the international airport in Tirana, Albania. While waiting to escort some passengers to an evangelistic event, I came face-to-face with Mother Teresa, surrounded by doting sisters, as she passed by on her way to a hospital event. Such a tiny woman with such a huge stature. Our eyes caught, and as she detected my recognition, she smiled, nodding, giving me a gesture of blessing. I was transfixed in that moment, feeling welcomed and received. Other things were happening in those minutes, but that’s the moment I remember the most.

Recently, I recalled another snapshot moment that occurred in the summer of 1988, when I had the occasion to hear the most amazing testimony of a Romanian man named Nic, and how he escaped Romania in the days of the communist dictator, Ceausescu. For nearly two hours I listened with rapt attention to a detailed story, highlighting God speaking through His word, through His people and through His Spirit, that eventually led Nic from the land and the people he loved, to a land (Australia) that he would grow to love. It was unlike any story I had ever heard, and I prayed to remember it.

Nic, with anguish of heart, yet knowing the grace and mercy of God, left his young wife and infant son, later to join him, and set out for the border with Yugoslavia. All did not go as planned, but God was with him. In the middle of the night, he followed a straight line, across fields flooded with light while God miraculously protected and shielded him, once even in the lengthened shadow of a rabbit. He crossed through borders, but his journey wasn’t complete when he shared with me in a café near a refugee camp near Vienna, Austria.

That meeting felt significant to me, a story that ought to be told, but how can one capture the verbal snapshot of someone else's experience? Impossible. With his blessing, I shared it whenever the Lord gave opportunity, often to children, churches and various venues to great effect. People came to know it as the “rabbit story."

Brief encounters have great potential

I’ve started trying to write it out for a collection of stories I hope to publish, and I found myself wondering what ever happened to him. I didn’t have a last name, or any contact information. A single attempt, a letter, in the year following our meeting was sent to Austria, but was apparently not received, and so the story lived only as I remembered it.  

That brief encounter touched my heart. Nic’s example of walking in faith inspired my telling his story to many. How beautiful to know that, with it, children trusted Jesus, families encouraged their children to follow the Lord, and crowds marveled at what God does when we follow His plans. Brief encounters have great potential. 

That smiling, nodding, acknowledging snapshot of Mother Teresa lives brightly in my mind; how many countless moments must Jesus have dished out upon the loved and unsuspecting? Those are the stories untold, and unfinished, yet completely known to God.

On a recent Monday, I sat composing my best thoughts of the “rabbit story,” wondering whatever became of Nic. Did he ever actually arrive in Australia as God had spoken to him?

And as only God could craft, I received a text on Thursday evening of that same week that began, “Greetings from Brisbane, Australia. Hoping you and your loved ones are doing well. Last night while sorting through some old family photos, I came across a letter and photo of you dated Jan. 1st, 1989.” (It seems my letter had found its way into his hands but had gone unanswered, for which he apologized.) “After finding your letter and photos, I kind of felt I owed you a follow-up, even if 30 years later.”

I was stunned. Could this be the very Nic who had told me this inspired story so many years before? Incredibly, it was. I had long since given up finding him, but through what I feel is the “timing of God,” the persistence of Nic, and the magic of Google, he found me the very week I was thinking of him. Amazing, yet oh-so-familiar, too. How many times have I seen God weave something impossible? 

So, the story isn’t finished yet. As it turns out, the part of the story I remember best and tell the most, was more of a minor highlight to Nic. I’m working to calibrate a more complete version as I glean more, even after 30 years. Stay tuned.

What impression are you leaving these days?