I have been running dry in the idea department for the blog over the summer. The daily posts I put up last summer may have fooled you into thinking I was a genius in the writing arena; not true.
What I posted over the course of last summer was the compilation of 20 years’ worth of effort. I should have paced myself because I have run out of foibles and failures as well as triumphs and tragedies. Hence, some of the “reruns” you’ve seen recently.
I suppose I could just make funny stuff up, but that seems like cheating to me not to mention sort of unfair to my family and friends who would be spotlighted in fiction they may not want to be a part of. So we’ll stick with truth.
Lucky for me, bowling started again this week which makes me happy on a couple of levels.
First--obviously--I get to see my peeps again after being apart all summer. Just as important, though, is the conversation topics that happen at bowling.
We run the gamut from the standard money, sex, religion, and politics to more abstract topics like alternative medicine and the supernatural.
I think the only one of those we didn’t hit on last night was politics because--hey--we’re all sick of politics right now!
The big topic of the night was the presence of spirits. Not the Amityville Horror type of spirit, though. We were more on the idea of loved ones making their presence known from beyond.
In Brogan World, we are firm believers in an afterlife that can superimpose itself on the present. Captain could tell you stories; I won’t because they are his stories. Ask him sometime.
I think more people interact with spirits than they (a) know or (b) share with others. It can be a very private thing, I suppose.
Me?
Oh yeah, I’ve felt things from those who’ve passed, and I’ve flat out heard their voices in my head clear as day on occasion. Daddy especially can get in my head and tell me something I desperately need to hear at a given time. Gotta love that.
But the biggest encounter I had was so simple in terms of environment and content that I might have missed it if I hadn’t been paying attention. Or been brought to attention. Maybe that’s more accurate.
It was years...at least 20 years...ago, and I was on break reading a book in the Peace Plaza in downtown Rochester.
An elderly gentleman sat down beside me on the bench. He was well-dressed, even distinguished-looking, but nothing I would describe as spectacular or attention-getting.
He asked me about the book I was reading. To this day, I couldn’t tell you which book it was, but we chatted about literature for a few minutes until I simply lost the thread of conversation due to an overwhelming sense of awe in it’s most basic definition: a feeling of reverential respect mixed with fear or wonder. There wasn’t an ounce of fear, but there was an abundance of reverence and wonder.
I am talking being flooded in every cell of my body with a sense that those very seconds and minutes were in the presence of someone spectacular.
Here is where I am going to say something that some of you will embrace and some of you will not.
I knew at that time--as well as all these years later--that I talked to Jesus that day. It wasn’t how he looked or what he said. It was how I felt. Awed, humbled, and treasured. You have no concept how precious that feeling is.
I never shared that encounter with more than one or two very close friends in all these years. Not until last night at bowling during the conversation about spirits. I’m glad I shared it at bowling because it gave me the courage to share it with you.
You can believe it or not; that’s up to you. I know down bone-deep that when I get to heaven, Jesus is going to say “It’s nice to see you again.”
Images used:
http://www.askanangel.org/wp-content/uploads/Female-Guardian-Angel_AskAnAngel.org_.png
http://joshreads.com/images/16/05/i160514famcirc.jpg
http://www.ordination.org/Jesus-child.jpg
http://www.westburyumc.org/Websites/westburyumc/Images/sermons/mainslide-061911.jpg
http://static.lostseed.com/images/content/welcome-to-heaven.jpg
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