Lawton
by Tanner Olson
writtentospeak.com

A few weeks back Lawton and his family attended a house show I was performing at in St. Louis. I’ve known Lawton since I was a scrawny high school student who thought AXE body spray was as good as deodorant. It’s not. During the week Lawton was a firefighter, but on Sunday evenings he was one of the volunteer youth leaders at church.

I’m still not sure which job was more dangerous.

One morning, while on a service trip in Montana, I sat with Lawton on the surface of a picnic table as the sun rose. He had been up long before I had been. He saw me walk out of the building we were staying in and called me over to sit with him. We watched the wild animals go about their morning as the light was beginning to push away the darkness with bright blues and yellows and pinks. It was a sunrise unlike any I had seen before. I guess God paints differently in the quiet of the Great Plains than he does in Central Florida.

One thing I am not good at is hiding my emotions. My face tells you everything you want or do not want to know. And that morning my face said, “the future freaks me out.”

I was all jumbled up inside and it was showing on the outside.

Summer was drawing to a close and in a few weeks I’d be leaving Florida to attend college in Wisconsin. My mind and heart were all over the place. I was hopeful for the future, but scared. I was ready to leave Florida, but never wanted to say goodbye. I was going through it.

I don’t remember what Lawton and I spoke about that morning, but I remember leaving the conversation more hopeful than when I first sat down.

And maybe that’s what Lawton taught me.

You don’t have to say anything brilliant or earth shattering to make a difference.
You can just make space for someone to sit down and speak up.
You don’t have to have all the answers or ask the right questions to be helpful.
You just have to be there.
You don’t need to fix anyone's problems.
You just need to join them where they are.

When I would return home from college for holidays and school breaks I wanted people to know that I had changed. No longer was I the high school boy who didn’t know what was going on. Now, I was a college boy who didn’t know what was going on. Something in me wanted others to see that I was different. I had changed. Maybe that was pride talking. Or maybe I wanted to show my teachers and pastors and leaders that they didn’t fail me.

Their time wasn’t meaningless.
Their prayers weren’t empty.
Their kindness wasn’t for nothing.
Their love wasn’t wasted.

There are mornings when I watch the sun come up and I think about sitting next to Lawton in Montana. I think about how his presence in my life was an answer to my parent’s prayers. I think about how he modeled for me kindness and patience and what it means to be a man after God’s heart. I think about how my questions were answered and my fears were given rest.

The sunrise has always been a reminder of God’s mercy, a beautiful invitation to give thanks to God.

And today I am giving thanks to God because I am not who I am anymore.
I’ve been changed.
I have been changed by God’s mercy and by people like Lawton.

After all, love is never wasted

With hope,

Tanner Olson
@writtentospeak

About the Author

Tanner Olson is an author, poet, speaker, and podcaster living in Nashville, Tennessee.

He is the author of I’m All Over the Place, As You Go, Walk A Little Slower, and Continue: Poems and Prayers of Hope.

You can find Tanner Olson’s books on Amazon.

His podcast is The Walk A Little Slower Podcast with Tanner Olson and can be found wherever you listen to podcasts.

Tanner Olson travels around the country sharing poetry, telling stories, and delivering messages of hope.

You can follow Tanner Olson on Instagram (@writtentospeak) and Facebook where you’ll daily find encouraging words of faith and hope.