Local Sports http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00028420/00075/13x

Where's Waldo

Waldo. Where’s Waldo?

Those haunting words echoed inside as he stared out the window of the clunky old green Plymouth. The same, taunting words he’d heard over and over and over from the neighborhood kids. And today, peering out the windshield, he caught a glimpse of his round rimmed glasses in the rear-view. He remembered the small spectacles well, and the boy who wore them—and the wide-eyes that floated aimlessly, like a lost astronaut swallowed up inside a new galaxy; but he could just never seem to find the constellation. Where’s Waldo...Where’s Waldo…

He shrugged, turned, and thought about Julie as he drove into the rainy sky. And how she looked standing under the porch light: arms crossed, red nails tapping the white satin sleeve of her robe; she was tired of calling, looking, asking: Where’s Waldo?...

He never got up the nerve to tell her where he’d been every night: sitting on the empty steps of Al’s Café. In the back-alley after closing time, gazing at the moon, staring into the night: maybe the answer was encrypted somewhere inside that far-off silver orb? Yet, he’d trudge home, undefined, still and quiet, without constellation.

Snapping back from times’ past, Waldo stood over the imported oak conference table inside his high-rise office, adjourned the business meeting, and dismissed the room of men wearing black suits and neck ties. And adjusting his round rimmed glasses, he stared at the cartoon figure they’d made of him: the brown haired boy that peered from behind lost round spectacles. The caption, written atop the cluttered mess of cartoon read: Where’s Waldo?

“You ok?” asked Buddy, his newest intern. “You looked lost there for a minute.”

“I’m fine…fine…” Waldo quickly snapped. 

That night, inside his waxed Bentley, Darby, the chauffeur, drove while he stared out the back window. He wouldn’t have it any other way—yes, he knew for sure he’d make a grand appearance pulling up at Johnny Carson’s Tonight Show. They wanted to interview him…his overnight success…and how he’d done it…the idea that sold millions to children. He thought of how he’d answer.

Darby tipped his hat and opened the door under the gleam of the neon lights. Stepping out, Waldo caught a glimpse of the cartoon they’d made of him displayed on the city’s billboard sign. He gazed up, and the counterfeit boy reflected like starlight against the spectacles of the grown man behind the tailored suit. And the deep-set, Where’s Waldo, still loomed inside the constellation he never found.

Ouida D.W.

On Love and Metaphors from the Sea

Yeah, we all "think" we know about love. But like the hidden depths of the ocean, there are hidden depths of love. I compare it to the mystic: on the ocean floor it's too deep to swim, we can only imagine what lives there. What creatures remain unseen? What new life is living down in such deep places? Truly, humans cannot swim that "deep."

Even with technology today, divers are limited and unable to reach these oceanic holes. And just as God created these deep places in the sea, it's only through God we can encounter the deeper places of love.

Once humans reach their limit, they cannot swim any deeper. And so they stay stagnant, wading around in one place. And it's at this "depth" that things get dangerous. Why? Because they stay stuck there. They grow stale idling in the same current. Yes, it's at this human "love limit" when people usually venture off to new waters (leave and turn away) and start at love "level one" again, except with only a different person. And this cycle continues. So how can we reach the next level of love within the same relationship?

Again, because we are "limited" by nature, the only way to swim down into the hidden depths is through the spirit of Jesus. He is the tank of fresh air under these mighty waters, he pumps the oxygen we "need" to swim further into those oceanic depths, to encounter a DEEPER LOVE that no human can fathom except through Him.

It's eye-opening, and He does the work, not us. Ahhhh, it's refreshing. The problem is that this level takes FAITH and a willingness to TRUST and go there. Like the fear of trespassing into waters of the deep blue, many fear entering into this new level of LOVE. Why? Because they depend on "themselves" rather than on Jesus to get there. I have caught specs of this golden "new love." I assure you, it's not based on human strength.

Through faith I'm catching glimpses of the unfailing love awaiting us all inside the deeper springs of our souls. A hopeless Romantic for more...finding fresh rushing fountains with each new season. I'm swimming deeper, and know what I need to get there. Because without Him...we're all sunk.

Ouida D.W.