Bumping Behinds

It's a beautiful day in Anchorage, AK, so I jumped at the chance to take a deposit to the bank for my office. I have never been entrusted with this much coveted task since I am somewhat of a lower end employee, but since most of the office is on vacation I had my long awaited shot! I took the very important looking black bag and hid it behind my purse to discourage any pick-pockets that might be lurking in the shadows for an unsuspecting, important employee, such as myself. With heart pounding, I checked out all the cars in the parking lot of the bank to determined that no one suspicious was watching and darted toward the double doors. Once inside the pleasantly cool lobby a voice interrupted my visual sweep of the perimeter, "May I help you?" she asked? "Yes," I answered in my most efficient, business like attitude, " I would like to make a deposit." Amazingly, the teller counted my funds, tip-tip-tapped a secret code on her computer and the deed was done. Having felt like I had accomplished an important task, I casually strolled back to my car and began the process of backing up.

Do you know that sickening feeling when you come to the top of the worlds tallest roller coaster and zoom towards earth at a heart stopping speed? It's the same feeling you get when you feel a spine jarring jolt and hear that "WHOMP" sound of two bumpers slamming together. Suddenly that very important, accomplished feeling I had a split second before vanished and there I was, an idiot in a parking lot who didn't bother looking twice in the rear view mirror. I did what all good Christian girls do at that moment, prayed, "Oh God, please don't let that person swear at me....!" Thankfully, it was a little elderly lady with perfectly white hair and a little powder blue, polyester pant suit who was backing at the same time I was. She exited the other car and obviously had been praying the same prayer I had just prayed. We checked out our "bumped behinds" and quickly determined there was no damage except for some dust knocked from the bumpers and a dent in our pride. We exchanged smiles and "good days" instead of insurance info and carefully drove away from the parking lot.

Funny how that little quote from the Good Book is so true, "Pride goes before a fall (behind bump in this case)." I am happy to report I am back to my comfy lower end employee position and my pride has been sufficiently deflated, for the moment.

This Hallowed Ground

I had the honor of speaking to a women's group the other night. My topic was in reference to suffering and my scripture text was from 2 Corinthians. Paul lists a whole plethora of things our suffering does for us, but one that caught my attention was how suffering makes us revere those who have suffered honorably.

November, 1863, several months after the battle of Gettysburg (July 1-3), President Lincoln was invited to make a "few appropriate remarks" at the consecration of a cemetery for the Union war dead. It was delivered at the dedication of the Soldiers National Cemetery in Gettysburg, PA, on the afternoon of Thursday, November 19, 1863, Lincoln delivered a speech that was only three minutes in duration. The following is an excerpt from his Gettysburg Address.

“But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate—we cannot consecrate—we cannot hallow—this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.”

Lincoln sensed that it didn't matter what he said, he could not consecrate what was already made reverent by the suffering of Union and Confederate soldiers dying in horrible pain for what they believed to be freedom. If you were to visit the Soldiers National Cemetery this summer, that same hallowedness would still permeate the atmosphere and you would hear people hush their voices, remove their hats and lower their gaze in honor of those laid to rest on that battlefield, and hopefully realize it was done on their behalf.

The elements of Communion are sacred because of the suffering they represent. The bread-the broken, crushed Body. The wine-the freely flowing Blood. As I hold them in my human hands, I am amazed at their holiness made available to me though the suffering of Christ, done on my behalf.

Today, I think of someone I would honor who has suffered for the things he has believed in, but I cannot make holy the "ground", for his suffering has already accomplished this task. However, to you, I do give my heart felt regards and undying respect.

Ho Hum!

Sometimes I sit down to a blank screen, knowing I really need to update my blog, but nothing that would interest you comes to mind. Not that I don't have huge issues going on in my life, they would probably just bore you. I could tell you that I finally got my flowers planted. They sat on my front porch for a week. The pansies almost croaked before they were planted, but they seem to be rebounding well (okay, that was very boring). My grand baby, Julian, came over yesterday. He's sooo adorable! He's eating rice cereal now...what? You say that's not of interest to you either? Tough crowd! Hmmm...

On those days when life seems to be the most usual to the outsider, the insider (that would be me) deals with the uncertainty of the future, the question of loyalties, the doubt of self-worth and a myriad of other issues. These are the things that we seldom share with our most intimate relationships let alone the entire world (okay, I know there are only 5 of you out there that actually read this blog). Life does tend to keep me humble and prayed up. I won't share all the "boring details". I know you also have issues you face everyday that are kept from the view of the world, as they should be. Some things are just to private (or boring) to share.

I propose a deal: You pray for me, I'll pray for you! And surely we'll all survive!

On my honor, I will come up with a really great entry for your reading enjoyment!