Walking with Reuben

My meeting ended early, so I quickly walk back to my office. I plug my white earbuds into my ears before I am two paces out of the conference room. There is only a few minutes left of the This American Life I was listening to when I arrived and I love the section at the end when Ira takes some segment from one of the stories and attributes it to his boss in a made up scenario. It never fails to make me smile.

After the hall and the stairs down and Ira makes his joke, I arrive at my office. The desk has more clutter on it than I like and I can see I have gotten some mail. CFI. I can file it later, these are documents I get all the time and Karen has already taken care if the process, off of the e-mail that preceded these envelopes. Without sitting, I type my password into the computer and take a look at my calendar. If I am going to walk, I need to do it now.

I walk out the gap in my cubicle wall, which I call my door and make an immediate left to see if Reuben is in his cube. His computer is on, on his desktop I can see an artists redemption of the throne room of God. Twenty four elders, emerald rainbow, kneeling and praising. Reuben is not here. I walk with Reuben.

"Ready to walk?" he says from behind me. He knows by the time of day why I am standing looking into his empty cube. As always his is impeccably dressed, sweater vest, matching shirt and pants. "You ready?" I ask, but he is already grabbing his jacket. The weather has been nicer, but it is not that nice today.

I grab my own jacket and we walk side by side down the stairs and to the door outside. Our feet begin walking the most common path, down to the Potbelly and then a left at the sidewalk down to the expressway, then we circle back and return. We don't think about the path.

Before we have even made it out of the parking lot, I ask him how his weekend was. He tells me of his friend, who stayed with him in his small apartment, of his church a small black Pentecostal church, he tells me of the goals that slipped as a result of Easter and the surprise visitor. I tell him about my weekend, the services at my church and the time spent with Shelly's family. I tell him I am still tired from the long weekend.

It is only then, I come back to his missed goal. This is not a work goal, but a step for him to fulfill the ministry God is calling him to. We make it to the phone pole, which marks the spot for us to turn around and talk about God's grace. He beats himself up more than he should over not getting the paper stared he said he would. The class is his, the timeline is his, the goal is his, but recognizing that he didn't do what he set out to him, pains him. I hope in the conversation to have him connect to God's grace. I don't know if I do a very good job.