I keep walking...
I am a true Baptist, meaning, I do not know nearly enough about other Protestant denominations or religions. In my current city, I am just one of a few of the "dunked" among the "sprinkled."
Yesterday, I witnessed Last Rites for one of my patients. I have heard them before, but today was struck by a few new thoughts.
There is power in ritual and routine.
There is an easiness that comes with hearing "you are forgiven."
The Divine is felt differently in the rhythms of recitation.
There is a need for us to know that both God and humans know that we have faith.
The word "relief" is rarely used to its full potential.
What would our day be like if we experienced true reconciliation every day?
My confession is in this: I don't believe that God has ever taken a break from me, though I am certain I have had many days of disconnect from God. I would certainly understand it though, if God did need a Sabbath. I am frustrating--stubborn, egotistical, unfaithful--trying in lots of ways. But God is always there to hear my confession, to be a source of renewal.
Back to baby: As I recite the "ABCs" to her, sing her old songs that my mom sang to me, my grandmother to her, my great-grandmother to my grandmother, and even in the constant flood of "I love yous," I also want to give Baby Girl those prayers and spiritual songs of my faith. I want her to have those words lingering somewhere between her subconscious and conscious, ready to spring forth when she needs them.
In the background of the aforementioned event, Simon and Garfunkel sang, "Mrs. Robinson." Yes, it is true, Jesus does loves us more than we will know. God is often waiting at that intersection of heaven and earth.
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