a post i never posted

I found this post that i never finished and instead of waiting 2 more years to finish it, I decided I would post it as is. I don't remember where my train of thought was going to end up, but I do remember that comforting feeling of being known... something I wrote about in the following post... and something I've recently seemed to have forgotten.


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11/13/08

The other day one of my friends told me she wanted to take me somewhere... but wouldn't tell me where.

She said it was a surprise.

I love surprises, but rarely ever is someone actually able to surprise me. I always figure it out, not even because I want to, but simply because my intuition is that amazingly good that I always just figure it out. It's actually quite a bummer sometimes, because like I said, I love surprises.

So I agreed to to let her surprise me... and in all honesty I didn't really have a clue as to where it was... until she said how long it would take to get there and what time it closed.

I figured it out and I told myself that it was a cute idea, but I wondered why in the world she would want to take me there.

This friend knows me well... very well... or at least I thought she did. I mean, I can understand if she would maybe want to go with me sometime, but to call it a surprise and get me excited about it as if I had no clue it existed, I just thought that was kinda weird... and I started to wonder if she knew me... at all.

We make it to Wheaton and finally I ask...

"Are we going to the Billy Graham Museum?"

She laughed, and said "no... are you serious? well... yes."

Ah ha! I knew it.

"But it's not what you think," she said.

"Doubtful," I thought.

Apparently she heard my thought process because before I could even say anything she asked "do you actually think I would tell you I have a surprise for you and take you there? Don't you think I know you... at all?"

I let out a laugh, followed by a sigh of relief, but I seriously wondered what could possibly be at the Billy Graham Museum that I would want to see.

Just to keep others up to speed, I have been to the Billy Graham Museum... many times... even as a kid. It's sort of a family thing. My grandfather, or Papa, as we call him, was the worship leader for Billy Graham, so they have traveled all over the world together, ever since the beginning. For those of you who still have no clue what or who I am talking about, I like you already.

In all seriousness, Billy Graham was a well known evangelist for God knows how many years. He has been referred to as "America's Pastor" as he has met and prayed with numerous presidents from Dwight D. Eisenhower, John F. Kennedy, Lyndon B. Johnson, and Richard Nixon, to Gerald Ford, Bill Clinton, and both father and son Bush. He has also recently informed President-elect Barack Obama that he hopes to meet with him and pray for him as well. I read an article saying that Billy Graham did not always agree with the presidents' policies, but he prayed for them all.

Anyway... all this to say... this is why my friend would want to take me to the Billy Graham museum in the first place... or maybe why anybody would want to go in the first place... he's actually quite an amazing man. So yea, there's history there, and for me, heritage... sweet, right?

Right... for someone who doesn't know me well, it would be sweet for them to want to surprise me and take me to see some of my family history. But for someone who knows me, who knows my story, who knows my history, who maybe even knows the sting that comes along with the privilege of being a "Barrows," it's not so sweet.

We arrive on the campus of Wheaton College, park at Barrows Auditorium (yes... related), and we head inside, all the while still wondering what the crap we are going to do.

Before we get to the double glass doors, she tells me not to look. "I've seen what's through the glass doors," I say to myself in a total smart-alec manner. I follow her into the bathroom, wait for her to finish her business, and follow her back out... ready to walk through the double glass doors.

As we approach, I'm finishing up a story I had started telling her while she was doing her business, but I get totally distracted by a picture that I see on the wall, hanging in the room we are about to enter. As I open the doors, I try to finish what I am saying, but the picture pulled me in like a magnet... and I was silent.

"Is this what we're here to see?"

She smiled.

I whispered an "oh my God," and I smiled.

"You'll want to be here a lot longer than I will," she said, "so I'm gonna let you walk around by yourself... if I get bored, I'll be around somewhere."

I couldn't believe it.


I stood in front of the picture for what felt like 5 mintues, until I finally read what was posted beside it...

"Reflections of poverty and AIDS in Africa."

Those who know me, like she apparently does, know that I have a heart for Africa. I was not only moved by the display set before me, but the mere fact that she even thought to bring me to such an event. I think she knew it was risky to take me to an event that was taking place in the Billy Graham museum, but I like that she took the risk. I also think that in part of taking that risk, she liked the fact she knew she was going to prove my assumptions wrong.

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I didn't touch on it too terribly much in the above post, but being a "Barrows" was something I struggled with for a long time, not only because of my absent grandfather who was always out winning the rest of the world for Christ, but also because my dad was a pastor. My father, being somewhat raised by his absent father had ministry modeled for him as such. I'm not saying that being a pastor is a bad thing, but I am saying that I think people underestimate how hard it is to be a pastor, or in any type of ministry for that matter, and balance it with family life.

I'm in a different place than I was in 2008. I still have a very deep love for Africa, but I am slowly coming to peace more and more with my family heritage. While I may be much different from my grandfather, I can still be proud of who he was and the life he led (and still leads, he's still very much alive).

I know he wasn't there so much for his own family, but I know he has impacted others all over the world, and I have learned to come to peace with that. Instead of being selfish and resentful, I'm learning to be grateful for the lives he has touched. I'm becoming more and more aware that my "ministry" (we all have one in some way, shape or form) doesn't have to look exactly like my grandfather's. We share the same name, and I am more proud now than ever before to say that, but the Barrows name does not define me.

I would probably be more open to a surprise visit to Barrows auditorium or the Billy Graham museum these days, but I'm thankful that the timing of that visit with my friend was about my heart and not my heritage.

Timing is everything.

Thank you, dear friend, for that cold day in November when you took me to a familiar place for a complete surprise.

As I know you have heard many times before from myself and other people who have often doubted your judgment... "thank you for taking me there."

And thank you for your patience as you have waited for us to realize how grateful we really are.