We’re heading deeper into the woods toward a drum circle – something I’ve never done before. Darkness swallows our flashlight beams. The path feels spongy with moss and fallen leaves. The sweet musty aroma of decay wafts on the chilly air.
Torches illuminate the circle. We each choose a drum and sit on rustic benches. The drum leader’s long, gray hair is tied in a ponytail. In the past, people would have said he’s a hippy. I don’t know what label people would attach to him tonight, but I do know this: His heart is wired for God. Every person’s heart is.
The drum leader’s chatter – a pastiche of Native American, Buddhist and New Age beliefs and lingo – between sessions reveals that he REALLY, REALLY wants to be connected to a god, but not the God.
I know what it’s like to REALLY, REALLY want God. I used to talk like the drummer. Heck, I wrote and sold lots and lots of articles to “spirituality” magazines whose readers were interested in our divine selves and a higher power and healing the inner child and so forth. Who isn’t interested in being whole?
Wired for God, the drum leader, others like him and I, plugged ourselves into false outlets. There’s a surge at first, but the power fizzles. The current eventually shorts out and we’re in the dark again.
I have this idea, this wish that when atheists, agnostics and “spiritual” people are on the cusp of dying and are in that space between being lost to us and entering eternity, Jesus finds them and invites them to come to Him. And they say, “Yes!”
A few weeks after our drum circle experience, I learned that the ponytailed leader had died suddenly of cancer.
I hope he said, “Yes!” and is in the light now.