Messengers

I often wonder what it would be like to be a messenger.  New York used to be full of them.  With the advent of fax machines the number you see on the streets today is significantly less than ten years ago, but they still exist.  Their bicycles are still thrashed but incredibly functional.  You never hear the gears grinding or brakes rubbing.  They have scratches everywhere, tape protecting key joints, and look like they spent their lives trapped in a gravel pit, but they still work beautifully.  Their role seems to be a crucial as it has always been.
 
Most of the time messengers don’t realize the value of their mission.  They bring a word or a letter, delivering it because that is their mission.  Often the content is just that – a group of sounds or words that may or may not mean what they seem.  It is not important that the carrier understands their meaning.  Forming an opinion is not required, expected, or desired.  The sender and recipient are concerned with three things – accuracy, confidentiality, and timeliness. 
 
When I read how “Rabshekah left and found the king of Assyria fighting against Libnah, (He had gotten word that the king had left Lachish,)” (Isaiah 37.8) I wonder what he said.  What was his tone?  How did the king receive the words?  Did the meaning and intent come through?
 
As I reflect, it does seem odd that as interested as I get in a story long buried in history I often ignore the calling you and I have today.  We are messengers.  We carry the values and priorities we hold closest to our heart as a gift.  For good for worse, helpful or less so, we touch others with a message from our hearts and souls.  Our tone and intent makes a difference in how others perceive the story.  Our meaning may, or may not, be understood.
 
Today is our opportunity.  We can realize our values and priorities.  In do so we will deliver a message.  I want my story to be of Hope, Love, and Compassion.