THE ZOOM CALL

I looked at my watch for what seemed like the hundredth time. Just another 5 minutes before the scheduled ZOOM call. I had prepared for this all week. The call itself shouldn’t last any more than 45 minutes, and then I’d be free.

I had plans to run home and after a quick shower and change of clothes We’d be on our way. We, being my wife and me. We were looking forward to a nice dinner out and then the weekend.

I unzipped my duffle and removed my laptop and set it on my desk. Opening the lid, I booted up the machine and waited. Once everything was up and running, I opened my email and located the link for the meeting. I double clicked and it launched the ZOOM portal. I paused just a moment and went back and reread the email. The client on the other end of the call was a newbie. It didn’t give me his name, but there were a brief bio and some comments he had wrote in the online form when he submitted his request. Hmm, male, white, 20 years old. Yeah, he was young. I remember when I was that age.

My connection seemed extremely slow for some reason. I waited. While I waited, I got up and crossed over to the coffee pot and poured myself a cup and sat down again. Finally, I got a good connection but all I could see was the background in some office setting. There was the back of a chair, but no one in it. I could hear people talking but couldn’t understand much of anything being said. I heard someone call my name loudly. I spun around in my chair expecting to see someone, but there was no one in the room with me. Then I realized it was someone on the other end calling to someone. I could still hear them talking. There was something familiar in the sound of the voice of someone off camera, but close by. Then I saw a flurry of movement as a hand reached out and pulled the chair back and a man sat down and stared into the monitor.

It couldn’t be.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize we were live,” came the voice from the other side.

I stared back. I’m sure my mouth must have been hanging open. I quickly got a hold of myself.

“Glad you could join me. I hope I can be of some help to you” I said.

He too had a look of puzzlement on his face. He was uncertain, but he pushed on.

“Have we met before? I feel like perhaps we know each other.”

“Perhaps we have. Let me introduce myself, my name is Jack, Jack Thornton.”

I would have thought I had slapped him. He looked at me with a look of total astonishment. Then the young man said, “No. It can’t be. What a coincidence. That is my name. We must be related. Are you from around here?”

“No, I moved. I used to live there, but that was over 25 years ago. I remember the town well. We lived in a two-story farmhouse out on old route 50, what they called the Bennington Pike road.”

“That is astonishing. I live on that same road: 483 state route 50.” Those last words we spoke together in unison.

“Yep, that’s the place.”

“This is very strange. How can this be?”

We both sat there in silence for what seemed like a long time. Finally I spoke. “So do you still drive that gold Ford Mustang?”

“75 boss,” he answered.

“Are there still apple trees next to the pond?”

“We had to cut a couple of them down, but yes, there are currently 6 left.”

“How is mom and dad?”

“They’re doing okay. I think my dad is retiring this year.”

He looked down and fidgeted with his tie. He raised his head again and we looked at each other. We both knew. But how can this be? The idea of it was utterly preposterous.

The young man slowly began to speak, trying to connect the dots, trying to choose the right words. “You are, I mean….” He struggled for the right words to say. “I am talking to myself. An older version of myself.” Then with sudden panic in his voice he said, “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to speak down or negative, it’s just that…this can’t be real…can it?”

I replied, “I know how you feel. I feel the same way. It’s a, it’s simply incredible.”

He looked away for a moment and then turned back. “When is your birthday?”

“March 14, 1964.”

“Of course.” He paused and then said, “So how old are you now?”

“61.”

He stared deeply into my eyes, searching for clues. “What year is it?

“2025.”

He covered his face in his hands and rocked back and forth as he was no doubt wrestling with thoughts spiraling, swirling inside his head.

I too was thinking. I saw this young man, I saw his smooth skin, his dark brown hair and all the marks of youth. Then I began to remember. I remembered me. I remembered back to when I was a young 20-year-old man. I was only two years removed from high school, trying to come to terms with life, with being an adult. I could clearly recall the highs and the lows, the sometimes awkwardness of that age. Then I remembered my past, the mistakes, the stupid things I did, the bad choices I had made and the downward path it set me on.

Then I thought, if only…. Could it be possible? Could I spare this youth the misery of sin, of bad choices? If only. I had made some bad choices in my formative years. I could clearly remember friendships I had formed in school that was my undoing. No doubt, he had already formed those friendships and was on a downward path. There were particular events in my life back then that led me further down. But then God began to deal with me about this age. Sin, by that time was beginning to bring a reaping. Its pleasures were becoming more exacting on me, much like Israel laboring down in Egypt, crying out for deliverance.

I decided to push things a little. “So what have you been doing lately?” He wiped his eyes and looked up. “What do you mean?”

“You have a job, do you not?”

“Yeah. I got into a factory. We make electronic components. I find it interesting.”

“So you like it?”

“Yes I do. I think it’ll give me some much needed experience.”

“College?”

“No, when I got out of school initially, I was done with school. Now that I’ve been out a while, I have thought it would be something I’d be interested in. But I don’t have the financial means.”

I remembered back to that time in my life. There came a certain tipping point where sin no longer brought pleasure. I remembered staying in on weekends instead of going out partying. It was at that point God began to deal with me. But where was this young person on his journey? Had he yet come to that intersection of life?

“So do you have any plans this weekend? Would you like to get together?”

“Well I’ve got tickets to a concert for Friday night. I’ve got plans to meet up with some friends. It’ll be a good time. But I doubt I’ll be in much shape this weekend.”

I realized he hadn’t reached that turning point yet. I began to. Feel anxious. “What about Thursday night. I could swing by and pick you up and we could go for dinner? Don’t worry, I’m buying.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

I began to be fearful. I remembered that concert. I remembered how I was still on the downward way. How can I persuade him? Oh, how I wanted to spare him and get him turned.

“How about tonight after work?”

He looked away and shook his head no. I remembered how I was at that point in my life. There were others who tried to talk sense into me. But would I listen to them? No. I was too stubborn and hardheaded.

“Look,” he said as he came to a decision, “It’s been uh, nice talking. I really mean that. But this is so absurd. I mean, the idea of some sort of a time warp where I am talking to an older version of myself, its simply crazy.”

Tears were welling up in my eyes. I felt so utterly helpless. I wanted so desperately to help this young man, this younger me. I longed to put my arms around him and hold him. I wanted his story to be different from my story. My throat seemed to clog, but I finally managed to speak. “Oh, I know, I know. It is crazy. No one would ever believe us. But I am here and you are there. Look, I remember when I was where you are now. Please, listen to me. That is all I ask. Listen. I know what is ahead of you and I so much want to help you.”

At this, he averted his eyes and looked away. Then he seemed to be thinking. Hope was beginning to grow in me. Hope that I was getting through to him. Then without any warning he said, “ I’m sorry. Goodbye.”

Our connection ended. I sat there in stunned silence. Now I felt just the opposite. I felt so very hopeless. Tears filled my eyes and my shoulders began to shake as my body convulsed with sobs. “No! No! No!

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

I reached over and shut my alarm off. I felt so disoriented. I starred at my alarm clock. It was 5 AM. It was Friday morning. The last day of the work week. It was just a dream, but it seemed so real.

Cobwebs seemed to fill my head with brain fog. Coffee. I needed some coffee. I needed caffeine and I needed to get moving. I so wanted to get back into bed and get more sleep. That was some dream. It seemed so real.

I got dressed and headed downstairs to the kitchen, being careful because I did not want to wake mom and dad. I grabbed a cup of coffee and a pop tart and grabbed my jacket as I headed out the door.

I opened the door to my Ford Mustang and climbed in. But I just sat there a moment. I couldn’t get that dream out of my head. Then I remembered that tonight I was to meet up with a few friends and we were going to go to a concert and party. Just like we had done so many times before.

But coming back to my mind was the haunting memory of the dream and all I could see was how desperate my older 61-year-old self was. He was pleading with me.

I sat there, not moving for a long time. I needed time to think. Don had called last night. He had the tickets. I started my car and drove to work. As soon as I got to a phone I called Don. He was not there, but I was able to leave a message on his answering machine. “Hello, Don, its me, Jack. Hey I just wanted to give you a call. Yeah, something came up and I’m afraid I won’t be able to go tonight. Maybe another time. Sorry.”

Then I hung up the phone and buried my face in my hands. I determined then and there I was done with the world. I felt so tired of sin and what it was doing to me. I decided with God as my helper, I was going to change. I wanted to be saved.