True Story

Yesterday was one of those days. You know the kind where random stuff goes wrong but in a funny sort of way. I went out walking with the stroller and the pooch fairly early to beat the rain I thought was coming and never did. As we were walking my lovely little pooch saw a rather large pooch behind us. She stopped dead and refused to walk any further. This was a set up for complete disaster as my little pooch thinks she is big and plays nice to get the other dogs to come on over and say hello and then she tries to eat them. Now I am wrestling the dog to get her to walk, unsucessfully. The lady walking the other dog is trying to have a conversation with me and I can't hear her because of the wind, I looked like a total witch but I had just minutes before her dog was nose to nose with Trin and that my friends would not have ended well. Did I mention this whole ordeal was taking place next to an active lacrosse field? So I am trying to make sure my human child doesn't get hit in the head with a fast moving hard ball. So I scooped the dog up and balanced her on my arm and the stroller and walked on until she was decently distracted. The other lady was close enough to hear now, she said I will go the other way. Too late.

We got home and played out back for a bit, then Miss Lilia was cranky and tired we tried to get her to nap but she wasn't having it, we resorted to a car ride, it was a long one but she fell asleep. I ran into the Dollar Store while Paul waited in the car. It was really crowded I heard the life stories of at least three loud strangers. I was mistaken for an employee. Sounds were starting to rip through me like a knife, lady crinkling papers, another jingling her keys. I needed to get out of there fast. I go to pay and realize I am out in public with one finger nail painted because the night before I was testing a color, go me! I get out to the car now that I have taken 20 minutes in the crowded store and there is Lilia sitting on Paul's lap eating jelly beans. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? She woke up and was ready to go.

We headed home and after hours of fighting sleep and a second car ride got her to nap for just an hour. I was pooped. The house was a mess. I did what I could. She woke up as I was making dinner and video chatting with my niece about her upcoming nuptials. (Really is that how you spell it?) So there I was video chatting away making some chili, and I decide to have myself a nice girly drink. Then another. Then I realize it's Maundy Thursday and I have to be at church in an hour and I am totally buzzed. I scoffed dinner went outside and played a bit then I had Paul drop me off just in case.

So I am sitting there in the most somber service of the year. I start having some pretty big thoughts, like Judas really gave Jesus up for 30 pieces of silver? Doesn't this strike anyone else as odd? Jesus says in many different ways give it all up and follow me. So it seems to me like these followers have already had to make some sacrifice, it's seems like they had to be all in. Why was it that the silver lured him? It doesn't make sense. I wanted to stand up and say something is missing here. Some part of the story is left out. It can't be that simple. Then it hits me Judas no matter what his motive was an asshole for selling out Jesus. I mean even if those 30 pieces of silver were the equivalent of millions of dollars today, would you send your best friend to their death for any amount of money? (If you answered yes to that this probably isn't the blog for you and let me know who you are so we don't become BFFS!)

Here's the shocker though, Jesus forgives him, the way I see it multiple times. There it is laid out for you, the meaning of Jesus in the story of Judas. Jesus loves Judas the A-hole who sold him out for a bag of silver, just as much as he loves us. It shocks you and then you remember that you are the A-hole sometimes to someone, even if the end result isn't death. It's a good thing Jesus loves us anyway, huh?

Now all that brought me to another thought. When I was about 8 or 9 someone either my Grandmother or my Aunt Chalena told me the Easter story. I didn't go to church so it wasn't like I had heard it before. I didn't get the whole idea of Resurrection or salvation or grace or forgiveness. What I did know was from what I was told Jesus was a pretty good man and some people killed him. I was pissed off! So I went out into the back yard of my grandparents' house with a little picture of Jesus my Aunt had given me. I dragged together some lawn furniture and made a court room. I was putting those Romans on trial. I of course was the Judge, the angry judge. I sat there by myself talking to myself and yelling at the Romans for killing such a nice man, who was innocent. My grandmother must have heard my yelling, knowing I was alone and came to see what I was up to. I told her I was mad because they killed Jesus, so it was court and I was sending them to jail. She replied something along the lines of, "Yeah, don't play like that." Then distracted me and brought me in. I got the sense that it wasn't a good idea to mess around with Jesus.

I was a strange kid. I had a huge imagination. I had a built in sense of justice, which thankfully has evolved a bit. I always had the God longing. I always asked to go to church, I wanted to wear my nice dresses to church. We got dressed to the nines on Easter and Christmas but didn't go to church. Go figure. Now I can't get away from the church or God. Nor can you get me to dress up or wear a dress.

So there I sat in the most somber service of the year, giggling to myself because I put the Roman's on trial as a little girl and totally freaked my grandmother out.

Then it happened my stomach started churning. HERE IS YOUR WARNING LEAVE NOW IF YOU ARE FAINT OF HEART! Basically I knew I wasn't making it home I had to go to the bathroom because some ungodly pile of poo needed to come out. I made it through what felt like the reading of the entire bible to a hymn, I had a plan, I would go to the bathroom next door because you would be able to hear what was happening in the bathroom in the sanctuary. I stood up for the hymn made it through a verse and had to go to the bathroom, I started walking and I wasn't making it to the other building, I had to go to the bathroom right there. So I went in as quietly as possible. There is a problem though, this wasn't a normal bowel movement, it was well let's just say the loud kind. So there I sat, timing my loud bowels to the hymn which of course had dramatic pauses. Some times I tremble... tremble... tremble will never ever have the same meaning to me again. I waited to hear everyone leave in the dark silence and left with a little dignity intact.

The moral of the story here, I sucked at lent this year, I didn't make good on a single promise or goal I set out for. However, I did have some great theological reflection and some good memories relived. The fact is before my stomach went AWOL on me, I really felt Jesus and the meaning of it all. I think that is what it's all about. That for a moment, God transcended all logic and touched my soul.

Well that showed me to post a blog saying I had nothing to say, now didn't it!

All that being said, today I find myself grateful for my Aunt Chalena, who was herself a very devout Presbyterian, occasionally bringing us her Sunday School left overs and telling me the stories of the bible when no one else thought it important. May she rest in peace knowing she made a difference in my life.

May you be blessed with a sense of humor to endure a day like the one I had yesterday and still be able to see the beauty of God in it all!