Bud

I do not know how it is that I got so lucky, so assigned, so blessed, such kairos, such serendipity, such a gift. Some how, in some mysterious and Divine way, I have had a soul friend, an Anam Cara.

Bud has been one of the most faith formative and identity affirming humans I have encountered in my adult life. We met when I was 18. Me, a wide eyed and enthusiastic college student. Bud, a Baptist mystic contemplative.

What are the things I want you to know about Bud?

Bud knows the little lights. He knows them by name. Sit under the night sky and Bud will introduce you to the stars. In the midst of great darkness, in caverns of uncertainty and grief, blanketed by midnight shadows of pain and loss, Bud watches, stays, remains, wrestles, groans, laments, waits. Bud knows the darkness. He knows it by name. Bud knows that God saw the light and the darkness that God had made and God said, "it is good!" In the midst of the darkness, Bud is shown light. Once, in my dark moment, Bud reminded me, "look for the little lights."

Bud beholds. Bud looks with wonder. He is curious, He holds prayer, people, silence, and concerns, Bud holds vigil. Bud is open. Bud tends. Bud is present. Bud looks, sees deeply, loves genuinely. To be held by Bud is to be akin.

Bud piddles. Bud laughs. He snickers. Bud labors. Bud lingers. He pauses. Bud writes letters. He sends Wendell Berry, Mary Oliver, Richard Rohr, and Joan Chittister in the mail. Bud meditates. Bud knows the ridges of the mountains and the streams of the sea. He pays attention to the birds.

I have been known by Bud. Oh, how grateful I am.