Sacred Sunday Sabattical of Sorts.....

“I reject the notion of talking about God as a person, but there's a difference between talking about God as a person and talking about God as personal. The term I use is pantheistic - everything is in God and God is in everything. That's pretty intimate, but it doesn't mean that we don't have to find our own way and do our own creating. I see the universe as a Divine womb and we're all swimming around in this soup.”

Matthew Fox

I have always liked just about anything that Matthew Fox writes.  He embraces creativity as a means of encountering the Holy.  I wrestle probably every day with the concept of God, how God exists, how God works and yes if I'm truthful even on some days I have to admit it aloud--even this person who proclaims the gospel wrestles with the concept of all the Mystery--meaning, yes, I do still ask the question, "Are you really there?".

Sunday at the Off Color Family house, the hustle started out really early....

Shortly after midnight, Maddie woke me up because she was sick.  After I finally got back to sleep around five, I heard the phone ringing and jumped out of bed.  It was Big Daddy's phone and on it was B. our son.  He was at a friends house, sick and vomiting.  He needed me to come get him.  About that time, a huge whirlwind of a storm began, thunder and lightening and wind.  I was really excited about going out into all that dark wonder.  Oh and all the while, this is going on, I forgot to mention that Cecil Devil Dog from the gates of Hell is scared of storms.  He pants and shakes and runs around and gets in the tub and pretty much has a nervous breakdown.  Maddie was up with him trying to calm him down. 

I got out the peanut butter and the benedryl and gave him a double dose--I just couldn't handle him.  He'd peed in Maddie's room, on the bathroom rug and had pooped behind the couch during his breakdown.  One sexy hot mama can handle only so much at five in the morning. 

I head out in the storm and pick up B. Of course by the time I got him, the down pour is at it's worst.  We get home and B. heads to bed.  I'm drenched so I go to put on dry clothes when I hear B. scream for Maddie---never a good thing.

Next thing I know, Maddie is telling me that we had to go check on a dog he forgot to bring in off the leash.  I had no knowledge that he was even watching a dog.

So back on with the wet clothes, Maddie and I get in the car and go to a house that I'd never been in before....we don't know the dog's name and we have no clue what it looks like....

It is dark.  It is rainy and we have to find a key.

We head inside and head out the back door.  There is no dog.  Maddie calls B.

"there has to be a dog", he says.

I go out in the middle of the backyard to look.  I still don't see a chain or a dog.  Lightening is flashing and thunder is rolling and this sexy hot mama is looking like she might just win the

wet gown tucked into a pair of shorts contest.  Still no dog....

We go back home, get B. up and he goes and looks.  It appears the dog pulled his chain up and was no where to be found.  I did go scale the neighborhood twice in an attempt to find a dog--even though I don't know what he looks like.

I feel bad for my son who had to call and explain to his friends who were on vacaton that the dog was missing.  It was one of those things that a mom can't fix, even if she wants to--he feels horrible.

I come home.  Everyone heads to bed and I take a shower to warm up--seems early morning storm rain is quite cold.  After this, at seven, I text a friend of mine who was preaching and told her I wouldn't be there and go to sleep.

A few hours later, I wake up.  I look at the clock. There is just enough time to get beautified and make it to the church.  I must admit, I was a bit apprehensive about going this Sunday.  It had been a long, long time, since I sat in the congregation as a worshipper.

I drove up, wondering what in the world I was doing heading to a Baptist church--in my early years, I felt a call to ministry early but because of the teachings of the fundamental church where my father was a pastor, I was sure I'd never be able to live out my calling.

Anyway, I head in.

The church was warm and welcoming.  An old gray haired woman with a wonderful smile and touch sat with me.  The meditation in the bulletin spoke to me....it was something about being in the midst of the waves of life and being tossed and then invited us to remember that we all had a life jacket.....God.   I loved that image since I myself am the queen of dog paddle...a life jacket makes me feel safe.

The songs were reminescent of my childhood.  The service was rich in sound and sight and the sermon....oh my...the sermon.

My friend, who had been through a terrible ordeal with her husband's recent stroke began in a rhythmic way.

The scriptures she used were simply, "Do Not Be Afraid."

She began with a confession of sort....

She said something to the effect..."Our scriptures tell us this, Do not be afraid, and I, a person of faith am scared all the time.  I worry about the health of my husband, about my daughters and whether they will suceed and be happy, I worry about people at work and about the dog and about the world. I am afraid."

Her words rang true with me.

I try to live in the positive light,

but underneath it,

there is this fragment of fear...

it vibrates and at times rolls over me...

I nodded because I knew what she was talking about.

She ended with the story of how she sat in the congregation not too long ago and

was feeling sorry for herself and thought

"why can't my life just be "normal" like............"

She said she looked around and realized

that every person in the congregation

felt hurt, saddness, rejection,

carried a burden

and

worried.

She realized there was no such thing,

but together

with faith, fortitude and friendship

grace happens

and

when we are scared the magnitude of friends

take some of the burden upon them and carry it so that it is not so heavy....

I miss being part of a regular congregation.  I miss shaking people out the door and knowing their body language and the nuances of the way they hold their shoulders and look with their eyes.  I miss the hugs, the love, the touches and the stories.

I even hate to admit it, but I even miss the coffee that the elder used to drive me crazy over.

So on this Sunday

This sacred Sunday of Sorts...

a mix of emotions in my soul moved around in that one little hour where I sat and heard about

the

wonder of the Mystery once again.

I had my hug with my friend at the door.  We've known each other for a long time.  She worked at the seminary and for a few years, I served as her spiritual director.  Now we are friends and we speak to each other without ever using words--a secret language of souls.  She looked at me from the pulpit.  I laughed and she smiled. 

The rest of the day, well the "off-color" family spent the rest of the day in bed.  We have all slept most of the day.

A lazy evening in our pj's, pizza hut pizza, and reclining on the couch.

It was a sacred day.

A restful sabbatical of a day.

A soulful rejuvenating day.

I still have the same questions about the Divine.

I guess I'll always wonder and wrestle and then rest for a bit.

but for today for

a

sacred Sunday sabbatical of sorts

where my spirit was energized and my body renewed, perhaps, I am a bit like that butterfly

who landed on the flower just as I started to snap the shutter...

perhaps..

my soul was fed a bit of spiritual food

to prepare me for the week

as

I landed for just a moment in a place that provided sweet nectar for the soul....

tasted a sweet splash of Divine Soup

and was reminded that the

The Mystery comes to us..

in all kinds of ways..

through all kinds of circumstances..

I don't understand it...

can't always articulate its' wonder,

but

am thankful.....thankful for it all.

Blessings to all of you

on this Sunday evening.