It was such a beautiful day today, so I took my Bible and my journal to one of my favorite parks. It is a park I discovered over a year ago when I went for a drive to think. I had driven past it many times before, but never realized it was there, hiding behind a lot of trees. This park includes a pond, that has become kind of swampy. I have no clue what it is actually called, but I call it Grace Pond, because I spent some really hard days there, and I felt like it was God's gift of grace to me. I would talk to him out loud, because most often, it would just be me, God and the animals there. A pair of swans, and some ducks and geese. An occasional heron squawking and frogs chirping. I would talk, and ask hard questions, and would feel a gentle breeze or the warm sun on my cheek, and knew God was smiling at me.
This little park is in Michigan, just a few miles from my house, and I like to go there when I have the time. Its upkeep is severely neglected, and from what I have discovered, was once a much more alive place. I have discovered old trail markers, a bridge, covered in over grown brush, and a picnic area sign with a flattened picnic table to the left of the pond, under huge pine trees. Now, there is great evidence of it being a place for local teens to get into trouble together. There is usually broken glass in the picnic pavilion and often teens or others will drive up, and leave once they see me there.
Anyway, today I went out by the water where someone had thrown one of the picnic tables. It was tipped over and in the water a few days ago, when I discovered it and flipped it over. There was another one in the water too, but it stuck to the black muck, and I could not right it on my own. So I walked out towards the water, though the weeds that came above my waist, and sat crisscross on the top of the picnic table with my soggy flip flops drying beside me.
The colors of fall all around me were breathtaking! The pond is covered with some kind of tiny, floating green vegetation. With the pavilion, parking lot, and playground to my back, as far as I could see I was all alone with God. The large trees framing the pond on three sides were brilliant reds, yellows, oranges and greens. I was writing, praying, singing, praising, reading, all alone with God and nature. And then came the buzz of a moped.
This park is not very big, and to be alone, you ether have to walk in the muck or go close to the water and hope no one follows you. So this guy shows up and walks down kind of close to where I was. He says hi to me and with a camera around his neck, walks through the overgrown brush and disappears in the trees to the right of the pond. I want to be uninhibited in how I worship, and I only want an audience of one. And that was not going to happen there any longer, so I thought maybe I would move to a bench closer to the parking lot and just write. But I ended up at a picnic table under the pavilion.
I begin to write some and then along comes the moped man. He wanders over to me, a bit overly interested, and says " Hello, how are you?" in a very heavy Latin accent. I manage a polite, but curt "Fine, thank you," looking up only long enough to acknowledged him. Hoping that he was just being friendly, and nothing more, I kept on writing as he lingered, and finally he said "Have a nice day," and left me alone. As he took off on his moped, I wondered if he took any pictures of me as I was focused on my journaling.
About ten minuets later I head the buzz coming around the corner again. I just wanted to finish writing down my thoughts, and then I would leave. I had this creepy feeling as I noticed out of the corner of my eye it was him again. I looked up, and no one else was there. This time feeling more bold, moped man came over to me and sat down next to me on the picnic table. I started feeling a little insecure at the situation I was now in. He said hi to me (again), and that I was very beautiful. I notice his very dark hair, and that though he was dressed youthfully, he looked to be at least 40. I forced a smile, and kept my focus on my journal. Couldn't he see that I was busy? Then he saw my Bible and asked me what denomination I was involved in. He knows I'm a Christian, I thought, a little frustrated. Now I have to be nice to him even though he is really making me feel uncomfortable. I told him and tried to write, though it was not what I wanted to be writing, because I could tell he was staring at me, or my writing. Talk about awkward!
He just was not catching on at all. He then scooted closer to me, stroked my arm, and told me I was beautiful, again. I could now smell alcohol on him and the "really creepy" sirens were going off in my head. I'm thinking, what do I do now, as I'm still trying to stay focused on my greatest distraction, my journal. But I am unsure of why he has not yet taken the hint and left me alone, as I am writing very distracted sentences like "I need so much more. I need more than this..." as I can feel his eyes on me. My journal was my escape, or so I needed it to be, so I kept my pen moving. Finally he asked me if I was married. I typically am of the belief that there is never a time when lying is acceptable, however, when a creepy guy is hitting on a girl all alone in a park, this could perhaps be the only exception to lying. I'll have to ask Joe if this is the case. So I look him right in the eyes and said in the most positive tone, "Mmhumm."
At this point I really hope he does not ask about "my husband," because I am really bad at making up lies under pressure, and I have nothing. Plus, he is a stranger, who just needs to leave me alone, not learn about my personal life. I thought of getting up and walking to my car, 10 feet behind me, or of picking up my phone from my pocket and playing with it to let him know just how uninterested I was, but then he asked me if I had children. To which I responded with another, "Mmhumm," that may be worth slightly less than a strait "yes," but at this point, I was less concerned about lying and more concerned with being left alone! Then he asked me how many kids I have! I was thinking, say two. But I didn't have a story for two babies, so I said one, thinking of Mia, my two year old sister. Then after another awkward moment, much to my relief, he finally got up and said goodbye.
He wandered off into the park and disappeared behind the trees, and I finally finished writing, and left.
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