“You do not remember me, do you?”
As I looked up from my computer, distracted when I did not need to be distracted. With a glance, I was clueless. I knew that unless I had heard the voice, I would have not recognized her. “Yes, I do. It’s good to see you. You’ve let your hair grow long.”
“I did. I am impressed you noticed. I am working here now. I did not realize you were here.”
As we chatted about old friends, I realized that the young, clueless about most things, colleague had matured and was now in an important role. The innocence and naiveté of yesterday had been replaced by battle weariness and resilient strength. There was an edge in her presence that was new to me. It was as if she had realized that “they want to blot me from memory, forget me like a corpse in a grave, discard me like a broken dish in the trash.” (Psalm 31.12) They may want, but I will not let them! I am someone who can make a difference. I am one that they should follow, observing and noticing what I am able to deliver.
If you had asked me a day earlier if she was a good candidate for the role she was in, I would have been surprised. My obsolete memories would have provided the rationale for me to express my doubt. I did not stay connected and, as an obvious result had lost touch. In accurate truthfulness, I did remember but I did not know. I needed a fresh introduction. There is much to discover, much to learn. The fact that I thought that I knew the facts, understood the abilities, and had a measure of the skills, did not mean that it was true then or now. Knowledge takes time. It grows with experience, disappears with neglect. Perhaps it was time for a fresh introduction, a time of starting again. It will be harder than the first time but it is possible. The question is one of intent, willingness, and time.
