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(Reprinted from 2003)
Do you remember the Chevrolet Tahoe commercials from a few years ago, the ones featuring a poemread by James Garner? The first time I heard the poem, I was smitten. I hadto find out who wrote it, where it came from. I kind of thought it might bea Dr. Seuss offering I had missed along the way. It just smacked of hisunusual poetic style. Turns out it is ad copy written by the heretoforeunknown Patrick O’Leary. I wonder if he even knew the depths he had minedwith such powerful simplicity.
The poem, entitled “Nobody Knows It But Me,” goes like this:
There’s a place that I travel,
When I want to roam
And nobody knows it but me.The roads don’t go there,
And the signs stay home
And nobody knows it but me.It’s far, far away and way, way afar,
It’s over the moon and the sea,
And wherever you are going,
That’s wherever you are
And nobody knows it but me.
I am sure these words stir about as many feelings in those who read them asthere are life experiences. They carry in them a haunting sense of escapism.
Most people, I think, in the recesses of the mind, have some place to whichthey escape. It may be through something as purposeful as meditation or asincidental as day-dreaming. Since my earliest days, I have enjoyed a vividimagination. I have lived parallel lives: the one in the “real” world ofeveryday experiences and the one in the world I have contrived. In thatother world, the contrived world, I have been a lonesome cowboy on a dustycattle drive, a dashing prince rescuing some distressed damsel, a heroicathlete winning it all, a bold general preserving a way of life, even agreat evangelist, preaching to tens of thousands of hungry souls.
And untilnow, almost nobody knew it but me.
But the chord these words strike in my heart today is echoed in one of myfavorite Psalms:
He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. -Psalm 91:1
I read about that place where the roads don’t go and the signs stay home,that place that is out there beyond the everyday experiences of mundanelife, and I think of that holy escape into the presence of God – an escape Ihave taken almost daily for over thirty years. It is a haven, a refuge.
Sometimes I have been driven there by maddening pain. A few times bydevastating loss. Confusion has pushed me there. So has disappointment.Butthen there are those times when it is unmitigated, unspeakable joy thatdrives me to the secret place of the Most High. There are those simplemoments of praise. Those peaceful moments of grace. Those times when myheart just wants to sing.
I have been there, alone with Him, at the sun’s rising, when the world isglistening in the morning dew and awakening to another day of grace . I havebeen there at sunset, the sky ablaze with His glory. I have stolen peacefulmoments from hectic days. I have been there during a long drive across avast Arizona desert, and on a leisurely walk around a small east Texas pond.I have lain in grassy meadows, squinting against the summer sun, and gonethere. I have stood alone in a graveyard, a winter wind biting at my face,and drifted into the warmth of His presence.
I have even been there tonight,from this very chair, in this very office.
This great hymn captures the essence of what I am feebly trying to expresshere:
Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer! That calls me from a world of care, And bids me at my Father’s throne Make all my wants and wishes known. In seasons of distress and grief, My soul has often found relief And oft escaped the tempter’s snare By thy return, sweet hour of prayer!
Do you have such an escape? I hope you do.
A Prayer for Today: “Father, thank You for being my holy Haven, my escape,my Comforter, my Roadmap, my Guide, my constant Companion. How I relish thetime spent in holy communion with You! I need it, I want it, I promise notto forsake it. Amen.”
