I stopped at A&P on the way to church this morning and bought a calabrese bun and a bottle of grape juice. We hadn't 'had communion' in a long time and I thought people might want to celebrate together.
Some friends helped me carry in my piano and the stand and we started getting things set up but none of the very scary electrical outlets were working. This means no coffee and First Church of the Blue Haze don't start 'til the coffee's ready. (We joked about those churches where they have the fancy countdown clocks. We'd be well into the negative numbers every week.) So somebody went off in search of the one guy on the property who seems to have the knack of going into the back room where the lights aren't working, and poking the right place on the breaker panel. I'm not courageous enough to try.
It was very cool to have a couple of kids with us this week who we haven't seen in quite a while. Their mom is doing extremely well and keeping on such a healthy path that she's definitely on our list of miracles.
So we chatted a bit about Breakfast next week, about N.'s health (she's trying to keep her weight up so she can better deal with the Hep C, so she's thinking about quitting smoking. She figures she'll gain another few pounds.) and E.'s roof.
E.'s roof has been leaking now for nearly 3 weeks and the landlord's efforts at fixing it have not been effective (she said diplomatically). Part of the problem is that they've been trying to fix it with a mudflap from a transport truck and a bucket of driveway sealer.
(Really. If this was a movie, I'd think it was funny. But it's not.) In the meantime, her kitchen ceiling has been removed exposing her and her lung disease to the mould that's been hiding up there all this time (see pic). She can't use her kitchen, she can't sleep and a bunch of her stuff is in boxes on the end of her bed. So some church friends spent part of yesterday stapling up a sheet of plastic in an attempt to stifle the mould and reduce the draft.
I tell ya, just typing that paragraph has got me angry all over again. I can't believe the things that people have to put up with.
Every week in church we have a prayer time and people pray for whatever is on their hearts and I'll sit there listening and my mind will start to wander and all of a sudden, somebody will pray something that just shakes me. Takes my breath away. 8 or 9 or 10 little words that start with, "Please, God", that are so devastating that I just think, "Nobody should ever have to ask for that." So much of it has to do with family and children and loss and grief and fear and the profound injustice that people live with. And so much to do with helplessness. And there's such a fine line between helplessness and bitterness and just giving up.
So we had communion this morning. N. and E. and all of us who feel so helpless in the face of illness and loneliness and the fear of hope.
We broke our bread together and remembered that Jesus had done so much for us. We raised our styro cups of juice and said, "Here's to Jesus. Salut." And we left there knowing that, no matter what, we have each other - because we each have Jesus. And for now, that's got to be enough.
Amen.
r
Some friends helped me carry in my piano and the stand and we started getting things set up but none of the very scary electrical outlets were working. This means no coffee and First Church of the Blue Haze don't start 'til the coffee's ready. (We joked about those churches where they have the fancy countdown clocks. We'd be well into the negative numbers every week.) So somebody went off in search of the one guy on the property who seems to have the knack of going into the back room where the lights aren't working, and poking the right place on the breaker panel. I'm not courageous enough to try.
It was very cool to have a couple of kids with us this week who we haven't seen in quite a while. Their mom is doing extremely well and keeping on such a healthy path that she's definitely on our list of miracles.
So we chatted a bit about Breakfast next week, about N.'s health (she's trying to keep her weight up so she can better deal with the Hep C, so she's thinking about quitting smoking. She figures she'll gain another few pounds.) and E.'s roof.
E.'s roof has been leaking now for nearly 3 weeks and the landlord's efforts at fixing it have not been effective (she said diplomatically). Part of the problem is that they've been trying to fix it with a mudflap from a transport truck and a bucket of driveway sealer.
(Really. If this was a movie, I'd think it was funny. But it's not.) In the meantime, her kitchen ceiling has been removed exposing her and her lung disease to the mould that's been hiding up there all this time (see pic). She can't use her kitchen, she can't sleep and a bunch of her stuff is in boxes on the end of her bed. So some church friends spent part of yesterday stapling up a sheet of plastic in an attempt to stifle the mould and reduce the draft.I tell ya, just typing that paragraph has got me angry all over again. I can't believe the things that people have to put up with.
Every week in church we have a prayer time and people pray for whatever is on their hearts and I'll sit there listening and my mind will start to wander and all of a sudden, somebody will pray something that just shakes me. Takes my breath away. 8 or 9 or 10 little words that start with, "Please, God", that are so devastating that I just think, "Nobody should ever have to ask for that." So much of it has to do with family and children and loss and grief and fear and the profound injustice that people live with. And so much to do with helplessness. And there's such a fine line between helplessness and bitterness and just giving up.
So we had communion this morning. N. and E. and all of us who feel so helpless in the face of illness and loneliness and the fear of hope.
We broke our bread together and remembered that Jesus had done so much for us. We raised our styro cups of juice and said, "Here's to Jesus. Salut." And we left there knowing that, no matter what, we have each other - because we each have Jesus. And for now, that's got to be enough.
Amen.
r
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