I Met John Wayne ... Twice ~ Sundays Inspirations

"No act of kindness however small is waisted -AESOP" Hands held up in the air in the photo with a black background.

G’day everyone,

It’s been a very challenging month — one of those times when switching to autopilot is the only reasonable way to cope.

The second time I met John Wayne was while waiting at the barbershop. Ready to mull over our latest debacle, I settled into an empty waiting chair and closed my eyes. The moment my eyelids closed, a geezer began talking at me. I stress the words “at me” because geezers want to talk, but rarely are interested in listening. This guy was no exception — or so I thought.

Reliving my own sob-story left little time to listen to him monologue about his life of woes and dramas. With sunglasses on and eyelids still shut tight, I rolled my eyes and loudly exhaled. Didn’t slow him down a bit.

I heard a different voice tell me to listen. I picked up on the geezer’s story at the point when he lost an eyeball at the age of 4. His brother heaved a rock at him, and it tore into his eye.

Creepy ... and nasty. He had my interest. I sat up, beginning to forget my problems and listen to his. I got an earful. Next, while working atop the frame of a building under construction, the guy fell five floors, landing in a messy heap in the dirt.

His coworkers gathered, some weeping, as my guy began praying aloud. Once at the hospital, doctors didn’t expect him to live.

Geezer proved them wrong. Three years later, his body was repaired. While healing and going through rehab, he earned a degree in Theology and then another in mechanical engineering. He said he’d never work construction again.

And he didn’t. He then spoke of his wife and his relationship — calling her a dynamo who always had his back. “She’s the one I’d always want to be with me in the trenches,” he said. They had kids. His wife was already a CPA, but Boeing needed Japanese-language interpreters, so she became fluent in Japanese in only 6 months! [I spent four years studying Japanese and lived in Japan, but was only conversationally capable and could barely read & write the language.]

Then, he introduced himself as a real John Wayne. My skepticism showed on my face. Still not letting me speak, he explained in the Bible, John had the purest of souls and Wayne means the willing bearer of another’s burdens. He was mocked as a kid for his name, naturally, but he was proud of being a real John Wayne — a man, in spite of unreasonable injuries and setbacks, forged a positive life for himself and produced a vibrant, dynamic family. Oh, and did I mention that he did all this with only one eye — he even pitched and played shortstop on two AA BASEBALL TEAMS.

 “NOW, it’s your turn,” John Wayne said to me.

I’d been trumped. There was absolutely nothing I had to complain about. My dramas and latest cramps paled in comparison to what John Wayne had endured living a fulfilling life.

I meekly mentioned my poor eyesight and mumbled about some highlights, but most of my allotted chatter time was spent replaying his story in my head.

Eighteen years ago, I met John Wayne for the first time. My wife and I were depressed over the latest complications added to our adopting from China. We relived every dismal moment as we chattered, convincing each other that we weren’t meant to have children.

During a quiet moment, while gently swaying on a pair of park swings, many children ran past us. Brightly dressed and giggling loudly, they chased each other. Their carefree attitudes made us smile, but only briefly as the bitterness of our childless reality seeped back into our conversation.

As we gloomily trudged toward our car, we heard a man loudly laughing and chasing some other children. My wife and I startled - - that man and those children hadn’t been anywhere within the park just moments before. The park and its parking lot were absolutely flat you could see every bit of it with nothing more than a quick scan of your eyes. That man and those children just appeared right in the middle of the park.

Honestly, but sadly, my wife and I changed our route to our car so we’d avoid this monstrously muscled black man and, as it turned out, his five children. 

As if able to read our minds, the man called out to my wife and me. “Kids, they’re really great. Worth every moment of frustration,” or something to that effect.

Engaged and more than mildly curious, we slowly approached him. The man broke off from playing with his children and stood before us. We politely listened at first, but then we both shivered. This beastly, grinning, and a more-than-intimidating man was speaking so gently and lovingly about children, being a father, growing a family, and remaining committed to helping them become tomorrow’s adults and parents. It was as if he’d read our minds as we griped while sitting on the swings.

With each comment and personal truth, my wife and I felt the tensions ease out of our bodies. I became misty-eyed as I realized who we stood before. So did my wife’s. It was then that the man shook our hands and wished us all the best with growing our family.

Bewildered, my wife and I walked a bit more lightly toward our car. As we stepped onto the asphalt parking lot, we turned to wave a polite “thank you.” We stopped waving and, and our grins became puzzled frowns.

The man and his five children were gone - - vanished - - without ever entering the parking lot and without any of them making a sound. They all disappeared just as quickly as they had appeared. The walk to our car took no more than thirty seconds, and yet there was no sign of the huge, black man nor his five loudly playing children.

Call Him John Wayne, call him Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha, Krishna, the list goes on, but no matter the name or label, the message and intentions seem the same to me. God speaks through all of us and within everything around us.

In my case, these two strikingly similar chats of encouragement came from two men who physically had nothing in common with me. I would not have sought them out as friends, but then God spoke to me through them - - using their stories, their insights, at just the right moment when my world was seemingly collapsing around me, and my mood instantly improved.

Sure, there’s always the story of someone having it worse than me, but that wasn’t this lesson. Both men endured hardships, tragedies, and setbacks, but by remaining focused on their goals (particularly when concerning children), they spoke with the impact and power of God. Their voices could be of no other.

Also, let me know if any of you can logically explain how a massive black man and his five noisily happy children could instantly appear, change our moods by directly addressing our fears, and then disappear completely from a flat, featureless playground moments later?

God works in mysterious ways, and you can’t imagine how much I appreciate his delivery methods.

Have an inspiring day.

RJ