Where to place my stakes

I had taken 2 weeks off from work. I have no idea how most of those days went. I do remember walking in the park that is close to the house every morning and evening. I would walk within 15 minutes of getting up and within 30 minutes of closing down for the night. I know it was my salvation, however.

There's a cement pathway near the primeter of the park. It's ringed by willows and pecans. When the day's first rays filter through the trees, something celestial dawns on the conscious awareness. I simply put one foot in front of the other and walk a mile. And that's the phrase I still remember most of that 2-week time period—one foot in front of the other. I didn't have a whole lot to think about except why I was in the condition I was in. It was not supposed to be the way it was. So, around the park I would go uttering the Lord's prayer. If anyone did watch me making the rounds of the park, they had to be wondering why or what I was constantly muttering under my breath. It was the only thing I could say. I knew better than to lash out to God. But, I still knew that I had to find my way in a forest of different thoughts. So, I staked my 2 weeks' recovery period before reporting back to work on 2 recitations. They flowed from my lips morning and evening. Beyond those 2 recitations, I knew nothing. So, my lips moved:

My father in heaven, your name is sacred.

I wish for the coming of your kingdom.

I wish for your will to be done on earth just like it is in heaven.

Give us today the bread we need,

and forgive us our wrongdoing as we have forgiven wrongdoings against us.

Do not lead us into temptation but deliver us from the evil one

because to you belongs the kingdom, the power, and the glory forever. So it is.

Many times I would go line by line thinking through every word and how it applied to my new world without the flesh and blood member I had grown so used to seeing everyday and who represented my future. The 4th line I concentrated on. The 4th line the Maker delivered on. My days went by without a lapse into deep, dark depression.

In my father's compound are many, many houses. If it were not so, I wouldn't have told you it was. I am going to prepare a place for you. And if I go to prepare you a place, I will come again and take you to be with me so that you can be where I am.

The second sentence I repeated time and time again. I had to bank on either the reality of what I see is what I get or that life after death was both truth and reality. It helped me to address the one I loved and lost. It helped me adopt the phrase for my future, "I'll catch up to you soon." I can now actually look forward to the life after this one. If it were not true, the Son of Man would not have lied. He even said, "I wouldn't have told you it was true if it wasn't."

Even today I look upward and whisper, "I'll catch up to you soon."

The cold ground

Finally, the day arrives. It's been in the back of the mind since the afternoon that fate took its fatal twist. The day that finalizes the separation of body from planet. The day that inevitably rips what little root has been left in the heart completely from its dirt. The day in which the long last gaze upon the spiritless frame that represents the memories of years. The day finally arrives.

Yeah, there's a tribute ceremony, but it's not the same as a send-off or a time for bon voyage. The ceremony helps serves as the lock and key barring the ones who stay on this earth from the ones who are granted safe passage to the life after this one. The ceremony is a time to share with those outside the family's circle a circumstance or two that characterized the life of the one who left. The send-off happened days before.

The night immediately following the tributes given starts the really l-o-o-o-n-g journey without the person who so long has been a part of your essence. What does one do now? Life seems unimaginable any more. One of the reasons for living has been removed. Why must one go on without his presence? How does one move beyond this point that no one can believed just happened? Putting one foot in front of the other seems a little trite, but it is the only truth to the questions above.

Ah, there's a subject—truth! Bah humbug! Reality is the only game in town, not truth. Truth is lying in the cold ground.

A broken law

The morning broke without my attention to it. Somewhere in the light hours of morning I awoke to the breaking realization that something irreversible had happened the day before. I couldn't control it and disliked it with such great animostiy that to say I had an issue with its irreversibility would be a gross understatement.

The day's duties were clear cut. What happens at a funeral home is pretty standard around the states. Probably, so is what happens in one's mind, but a person's background governs his experience so that the thoughts become intensely personal. At first the disbelief is great. Each morning of 5 mornings the sun rose with the hope that matters would be different. But, they were not different. With strict uniformity the hope vanished because there would never be another conversation with the person I intensely loved. Visual communication had halted completely. It was a world with no picture.

Besides the normal dawning of this nether world of separation was the overwhelming thought that what happened was so, so wrong. Surely the Creator of life would never require that children precede their parents on the journey to the next life. Parents go first. It's written in stone. That is also irreversible. How could it be that that law has been overturned! It came into my conscious mind as voice so reverberatingly loud that I just shook my head over and over and over. The voice didn't leave nor did the thunder of its sound diminish.

All 5 days were as one. The routines were to eat and sleep mainly, and visit with family who had arrived for comfort. But the voice and its accompanying thunder were routine as well. All the intense care for a year suddenly and screechingly came to an immediate stop. And it was wrong, just plain wrong. The Healer had been implored a hundred times by many people. But His answer was that he would heal in His way, not ours-in His place, not ours. Did he not care that one of the inviolable rules had been broken. Parents take the journey home before their children. Always. It's written in stone! No-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!

Black hole

Dusk appeared outside. But, the night that it announced wouldn't be cozy. In fact, it would lead to the worst nightfall one can experience. Even one's own death could not be worse.

I don't even remember how or why I came home. Habit I suppose. I was numb after having wrung every emotional ounce of tears onto the hospital floor just 3 hours before. Since 7:00 I had been alone. I wish I could think of what pulsed through my mind. That's a blackness. I had uttered words based on what a nurse had done for physical comfort months ago. She repeated the soothing refrain, "Think of a blue room. What you love is in the middle of the room. It's so pleasant." I never rehearsed what I would say at the appointed time because I didn't want to be a non-believer in the awsome power of the Healer. But, at the appointed time my lips moved with sound, "Think of a white room. Think of a throne in the center. Think of the golden crown you are wearing." I never made it past that point in speaking. I just repeated the three-phrase utterance.






In my blackness, I hope I recounted every good memory, every word of love given out. I do know that I knew why I was alone. The reason was a demon all its own. It only added to the blackness. Somewhere around midnight, figuratively and literally, and very real on either level, I slept. As did someone I loved. But, I would wake again. The one I loved did too, just not in the world he left behind the evening before.

490 misses the point

I hate it when I get into an old argument with someone. The outcome is the same because the issue is the same. The emotions involved in the argument are the same. It's like seeing the same movie over and over. I had just such an occasion today.

The issue is over a hurt inflicted by a third party. It was a deep hurt inflicted on both of us in the argument by this third party. But the infliction of the wound was several years back. I think the difference is that one of us has practiced the principle of forgiveness while the other has allowed resentments to fester.

"How many times should a person forgive another believer?" Jesus knew the angle of the question being asked. He knew humans loved limits. They love to extract justice after a limit has been reached—a sort of 3 strikes and you're out philosophy. So when Peter mentions the suggestion of a limit like 7 times, Jesus multiplies the 7 by 10 and further multiplies that answer times the 7 used as the delimiting factor. The kicker is that Jesus gives a reason for doing so:

"... because the Kingdom of heaven is like this. Once there was a king who decided to check on his servants' accounts. He had just begun to do so when one of them was brought in who owed him millions of dollars." You know the rest of the story. The whole episode is in Matthew 18. I know my life. I owe a million dollars. I do not want to be guilty of turning around and asking someone to pay for a $10 debt. Although I get accused of not caring, I will not continue with thinking of the hurt. It doesn't matter in light of the grand scheme of how ugly my own life is without grace. Forget it. The Maker of all people is also their judge. If he thinks the third party should suffer recrimination for the hurt inflicted, then so be it. But, it's not because I am asking for it. I am grateful for the mercy I have received time and again rather than the recrimination that should have come my way.

So when the argument comes up again, I will be silent on the issue again. The Great Teacher has said forgiveness is the best path. I am going to eat, grab my keys and get on down the road. I have moved on regardless of the hurt. It's not my call. My call is in the form of an equation: 70 X 7.

If the spirit ain't happy...

This past week was a physically exhausting week. But, this weekend after catching up on rest, something very rejuvenating happened in my spirit. Like mama, if the spirit ain't happy, ain't nothing happy (and vice versa—if the spirit is happy, every other organ is happy).

What rejuvenates me the most is a scripture enlightenment. This weekend a colleague of mine came to stay. He also is a New Testament scholar, so we engaged in quite a few conversations about religion and scripture. But, today we ventured onto the hard sayings of Jesus. In particular, we looked at Matthew 11.12. It was on my mind because a teacher I had heard recently had applied the verse to Christians being assertive in their faith through their relationship with the Holy Spirit. He had used the New International Version for the wording of the verse (which was totally different from the version I was carrying). That threw me into fits since I thought that using the verse in that way was a total miscarriage of interpretive rules. But, having the conversation with my friend helped in resting my soul about the matter.

Matthew 11.12 according to two versions and their variant translations:

From the time John preached his message until this very day the Kingdom of heaven has suffered violent attacks, and violent men try to seize it. (Good News)

From the time John preached his message until this very day the Kingdom of heaven has been coming violently, and violent men try to seize it. (Good News footnote of another way to translate the verse)

And from the time John the Baptist began preaching and baptizing until now, the Kingdom of Heaven has been forcefully advancing, and violent people attack it. (New Living Translation)

And from the time John the Baptist began preaching and baptizing until now, eager multitudes have been pressing into the Kingdom of Heaven. (New Living Translation footnote of another way to translate the verse)

These 4 renderings of the verse are representative of the 4 main ways to translate/interpret this verse. The second one, from the Good News, is closest to the way I would understand the verse although I would vary somewhat. But, the gyrations of going through the versions and comparing it to the Greek text and discussing it with someone who also knows translation principles, helped my spirit today. Now I am satisfied that the verse is really a response to Jews who were worried that John was not getting a fair shake. It had nothing to do with the Holy Spirit. If I add a little bit of historical context to it, then the verse says, "In the 2 years or so between John's appearance and his teaching and my appearance and my teaching, the Kingdom of Heaven has attacked the power structure. So, those people have worked hard at oppressing it in return."

It's not about the Spirit, it's about the teaching of Jesus and power players' reactions to it. That's comforting to know. It rests my spirit. Now I can go refreshed into the work week much more settled. I thank the creator of a restful spirit for the reprieve amidst a turbulent work backdrop.

Oh, I'm not worried

People say what they need to in order to look good for the moment. I remember a man saying to me that he would not forget what I had done for him. Well, it's been about a year and half since I have heard from him. But, I'm not too worried. Not for one second do I think he will remember, but it's just the human condition to say something that sounds "right" for the moment. And it's even more the human condition to say something and never get around to fulfilling what you said you would do. I would be a bit more condemnatory if I wasn't guilty of the same thing myself.

That brings to mind a story with a stinging indictment to it. Jesus was brought a woman caught in adultery. His response was to write in the dirt. As he wrote, the accusers all walked away saying nothing. What did he write? Who knows. Some suggest that he wrote the 10 commandments, one of which is to honor your father and mother, another of which is to not covet your neighbor's wife, and 8 others which no one in the human condition could fulfill. Some say that he wrote what he said earlier in his ministry. You have heard it said not to commit adultery. But I say to you not to lust after a woman for in so doing you commit adultery in your heart. Who could really stone a woman for what a man does all the time, every day as he looks at all the women in the town.

So when I think of this man who had good intentions, I also think of the many times I didn't really follow through with something I have said. It's a humbling experience, really–a bit like masquerading every Halloween in costumes.

Roads a'plenty

Roads are a good object for comparisons to be made to. They have a number of good analogies, but I think the one I'll choose here is that they represent a way to travel. They make a journey a little easier than if you had to travel over rough terrain. And roads are plentiful these days making their use rather routine.

So, I'll choose several of these roads to explore the countryside (figuratively speaking) and see if the roads go somewhere lively or adventuresome. And if the countryside ends up being the type of terrain I like, I'll just stop and enjoy. And because the same road that got me to the spot also can take me away from the spot, I can leave at any time.

It sounds easy and enchanting. I know it's not, but it will help a person leave the state of limbo he may find himself in. And you never know when the road might just lead to the castle of your dreams.

Going nowhere

Limbo is a word that usually means some kind of interim state in which no one knows what direction to go next or a state in which no one formulates any plans to go any direction at all. Many have written about peaks and valleys in life, but there are just as many limbo places in life as there are peaks and valleys. Limbo places are hard for people to be in because they are used to such constant motion in their lives.

Limbo states, however, do allow for some reflection time just because energy is not used in keeping other motion going. And because limbo times are not usually self-imposed, they allow more global thinking to happen about our own spheres and possibilities. In that way, they are somewhat like dream states—a place in which possiblilities are endless and combinations happen without conscious consideration.

Such is my lot lately. But, the rearrangement of possibilities and the combinations not considered before keep me going and hopeful. It allows for my belief to take over that says that I really don't have to be in control of my environment. I never really have been. I just recognize the truth of it now more than ever than lying to myself or being in denial that I am in control. I trust the One in control of the big picture.

To the healer

The tone has been rather depressing tonight. I watched Grey's anatomy tonight. One of the doctors in the show was found at the bottom of a lake. They tried to revive her, but failed.

Oh what memories! The setting—the monitors—the doctors' efforts—the looks of fright and despair—the final blaring of the heart line tone!

So I come to my computer to blog and turn on the stereo. The 1st song up is a song that soothes my soul, has soothed my soul since my son departed this world. Matthew West's This Will Be My Finest Hour played—and spoke in ever gentle strains to my inmost psyche.

The king of contradiction strikes again

You said the last to cross the finish line will win,

And beggars will be millionaires someday,

and humble ones are going to have their say.

Well, all my friends are gone now

and all my money's gone now

And all my pride is gone now

and if what you say is true now

This will be my finest hour.

Everything is opposite down here—

The strong survive and the rest just disappear.

But your philosophy is more unique.

You say I'll be stronger when I'm weak.

This will be my finest hour.

It's 2 AM and sleepless.

I'm wide awake and restless

I don't know what my deal is.

Iv'e never felt so helpless.

I need you more than ever.

No I don't understand it.

I don't think I'll ever comprehend it.

It's so hard to conceive it,

so I guess I'll just believe it

This will be finest hour.

Oh Father!I am so silent in the face of death!

One year

Oh what a difference a year makes. I am reminded of a story I heard from Landon Saunders.

Two men in the medieval ages were in a dungeon talking. When the executioner came to get one of the men because it was his execution day, the man demanded the executioner get the king for him to talk to. When the king came, he told the man that he couldn't imagine anything the prisoner had to say would change his mind, but he allowed the man to speak. The prisoner said, "King, if you will give me one year to live, I will teach your horse to fly. Imagine what you could do with a flying horse." The king was taken aback by the request, laughed and told the man he didn't know how to teach horses to fly. The prisoner told the king that if the king killed him that day, the king would never know. So, the king gave the man a year to teach his horse to fly.

The cell mate of the prisoner watched the scene with disbelief. He couldn't believe his fellow prisoner really told the king that. "You don't know how to teach a horse to fly," he said. The cell mate replied, "I know that. But, who knows. In a year's time the king could die, the horse could die, or I might really teach a horse to fly. But, one thing's for certain. I have one more year to live."

Perilous times we live in. Outrageous solutions we try. One never knows when dire straits come, what opportunity will present itself.

Creating an illusion

The world has much uncertainty in it. However, when we create routines for ourselves, then we create an illusion for ourselves. We think that the routine creates stability, that that stability is desirable and that it offsets or at least minimizes what uncertainties lie ahead.

But, even in a "stable" environment, we could die in the night never to see the next day. We could have a fatal car accident or one that would injure us for life. We could cross the boss and get fired. We could encounter a criminal who would gladly end it all for us. We could not notice the world around us is falling apart and then our children leave or spouse. We could snap and become psychologically instable. We could be tempted to become immoral for a moment, but it would cost us when the information becomes more widely available at any time in our future. Any number of scenarios would fit. Any of those scenarios could happen in a split second. Then where is our stablility? What good would the routine have served us? But we hide behind the routines anyway.

Life is uncertain no matter how we slice it. That's where morality comes into play. It helps us to know how to react or it tells us who to trust if we don't know how to react. Paul put it well in his discussion of morality in his first communication with the group of Christians who met at Corinth, " If there is no resurrection from the dead... we are of all men most to be pitied" (15.19).

A picture-perfect parable

What a great snapshot of life. What one sees first and foremost is the raindrops on the windshield. It's hard to see anything else really. In fact, one tries hard to see through the rain drops even though it is impossible to do so. A closer look at the picture shows that one can see the dash of the inside of the car. That does help create a little perspective to know that the picture was taken from inside the car rather than outside. Noticing the dash also helps to see the foliage on the right side of the picture. Palm leaves make a person recognize how nice the scenery outside must be. But then, there in the middle of the picture, obscure almost to the eye, is what the picture was taken for. It is the centerpiece even though there are so many distractions to seeing it. The cross.

The picture is a great parable, just not in words. Life brings a person quite a lot of rain. It's easy to focus on, for sure. A person definitely realizes (s)he is looking from the inside out as life brings its rain. One barely notices the paradise (s)he lives in. If it weren't for a little reminder now and then, it would be easy to overlook something like palm leaves from one's vantage point. But how central is the cross in one's life? Small but there nonetheless? The brightest object in the center? The last thing to be revealed because of all the distraction? Hardly noticeable?

The cross. In the midst of rain. Seen only from the inside of a different world. Light piercing the darkness. Always. And forever.

Let's scrap working by the clock

Some days don't have enough hours in them even with good planning. Some days seem long and intense. Others days are dedicated to doing what makes a person happy. Some days just move along at their own pace and allow one to be spontaneous.

Of course it's not the days that are long or short, intense or lazy. It's the person who makes those days that way. As the person makes the days, so go the days. That really means the wear and tear of the day is experienced by the person. Time is an arbitrary measurement anyway. So, going through a day should be measured in terms of the wear and tear on a person rather than in hours. That's why a half day should be measured not in terms of a half day, but in terms of what feels like a half day. A wear and tear measurement should be created. People would be fresher and more likeable people if they would work according to their biorhythms, their peak times for alertness, their times of waking and sleeping, their times of tension and anxiety, their times for action and meditation.

A change to this way of thinking will probably not happen in my lifetime. So, I'm stuck working by the clock. Alas. Such is the path on the way to the next life.

Facing the next tornado

The picture is of the edge of a hurricane.

It's not so fun to face an uncertain future when the uncertainty requires you to walk blindly. You don't know if there is an ambush ahead, a green light, or a ride out of town. People build their lives on foundations, then proceed to construct what beauty they can given their circumstances. But, Life so many times sends storms with tornadoes to knock out the beauty you have built. Next thing you know, you're starting to build with your hammer in hand all over again. It allows me to understand the Teacher's words with a little better clarity after a life full of tornadoes.

"Anyone who listens to my teaching and obeys me is wise, like a person who builds a house on solid rock. Though the rain comes in torrents and the floodwaters rise and the winds beat against that house, it won't collapse, because it is built on rock." (Matthew 7.24-25, NLT)

It's not that the foundation crumbles. It's always intact. It's that the house with its accoutrements are being torn to shreds. But, it is the foundation that counts the most. If it is ever gone, I guess I am in Heaven.

The Tide tube

There's a Tide commercial that features soldiers lined up for inspection by a drill sergeant. One of the soldiers has a stain on his T-shirt. The drill sergeant is all over him with insults. The other soldiers pass a tube of Tide stain remover down the line of soldiers in order to hand the berated soldier the tube. The drill sergeant turns his back on the berated soldier for just about two seconds to look at the other soldiers while he is still dressing down the soldier with the stain. At that second the soldier next to the berated soldier slips the tube of Tide stain remover into his hands. The berated soldier has just enough time to rub the stain out of the T-shirt. When the drill sergeant turns back around he asks the soldier about the stain. The soldier replies, "Sir, what stain, sir?" The drill sergeant looks down and spins 380 degrees on his heels and shouts back, " Oh, what do we have? A dadgum Houdini?"

I love the commercial just because the underdog wins. But, I also know that it is a great "parable" about what God does for every soul while the world looks on, blinks, and looks again at us. Once we get a stain, he hands us the Tide tube so that the world really doesn't know how we Christians can stay nice people, sustain terrible tragedies, bounce back after Life delivers us a black eye, or seek a higher purpose for living. The world does chalk it up to magic in the form of "good inner self talk," or resilience based on how our past has trained us to be.

But the Christian knows better. The Lord's Prayer is a good example of the Tide tube in action.

Our father in heaven, we honor your name... Forgive us what we have done wrong as we have forgiven those who have done wrong to us...

The sun sets on our wrongdoing. The next day's dawn allows us to begin afresh. We're not Houdinis, just forgiven followers of the Son of Man.

I could not disagree more

Sometimes I wonder about the passage in Acts 26 in which Paul was on trial in front of King Agrippa. As he told his story of conversion to Christianity, he mentioned that God had raised Jesus from the dead. At that point, Festus, the governor, shouted out, "Paul, you are insane. You have studied so much that it has made you crazy!"

There is no doubt that Paul was at the top of the educational food chain for his day and time—the equivalent of a PhD. King Agrippa also was an expert in Jewish beliefs and customs although he probably did not practice any part of Judaism. But I hear the refrain in my mind often, "You have studied so much that it has made you crazy!" In part that is due to people thinking that I have left my childhood faith. That means something different to me than to them. I certainly have left my childhood faith. But, I haven't by any stretch of the imagination left my faith. I hope my childhood faith tutored me to accept a more mature faith. Also, in part, I hear the refrain because friends and family caution me not to take my learning too far because it might affect my faith. I hope my learning does affect my faith. It should enhance it beyond what I could otherwise grasp.

I guess I am protesting the "warnings" given to me. I love to read about historical contexts and the milieu of other literature that coexisted with the Bible. I think it does not lead away from the stories in the Bible, but gives it a richer context by which to consciously acknowledge that the Creator reached out to His creation. His creation recorded His encounters with them accurately. Because of that I can project ahead from the times recorded in that book to my era and see much more precisely how the Maker of all has decided to continue with the human race even though He might think His creation has made a total mess of things.

Our age is the same as the ones we read about in the ancient Biblical texts. The names have been changed, and that's about all. Wider reading about ancient literature and customs helps decipher more clearly what the Hebrews might have been doing. Seeing that Job correlates to Sophocles' plays, or plays a little earlier than that, gives me greater appreciation for the beauty of Job. Knowing that Israel kept chronicles of their kings correlates beautifully with what kings from other cultures did. That instills more confidence in the chronicles that come down to us. Knowing the early flood, creation, and lineage stories' correlations with other civilizations' equivalent stories strengthens the fact that a Creator tried so very hard to convince His creation very early on that they should respect Him. Ad infinitum.

So, although Paul was more educated than I, the learning I have received may to others seem as if it has driven me crazy. I could not disagree more!

Just an object

Recently I stepped out of my shell. I thought I wanted something, which I did. My mistake was that I asked the Creator to go before me into this place I wanted to step into. He did not go before me. I have more here to fulfill. I keep thinking my time will come when I have finished all I have been asked to do in this place. That's what I get for thinking. So, even though it wears thin on the trust, I stay—and hope and trust some more. I'm just not ever in charge of the big picture. It sure keeps me humble in the true sense of the word, not the false humility variety. I'm not the maker, but the object being carved.

A stalwart cliff wish

Once, I thought I knew what was right and wrong, black and white. Now I wonder anymore if nearly everything moral is reletive. It seems that good is tainted with evil and evil tainted with good. It seems that if I have something moralistic to say that I actually stand as a hypocrite if I let the thoughts have voice. I understand the human condition well enough to know that people make mistakes and that I am no different.

The ancient Hebrew philosopher who wrote Ecclesiastes knew this 2900 years ago (7:20-22).

There is no one on earth who does what is right all the time and never makes a mistake.
Don't pay attention to everything people say---you may hear your servant insulting you, and you know yourself that you have insulted other people many times.

Truly, there is nothing new under the sun. I know that not everything goes in a society. But, I am only in control of my own actions—and then only inconistently. It drives me insane, except that I know everyone else is in the same condition. I wish I could be a cliff standing out for all to see how consistent I am.

But, I'm not, so I better pick a different analogy. Maybe, a primitive cluttered third world village without much insight into modernization would suffice.

No, not this one

When I was young, I remember thinking what a great mystery the Holy Spirit was. After I had attended college a year, I remember having a long conversation with my dad about what function a spirit might have or what role (s)he would play in religion.

Over the years, of course, the Holy Spirit's function and role has become clearer. But, if I was ever in doubt at this point in my life, I wouldn't be after today. What I saw happens only in movies that are not real.

I was sitting on an interview committee for 6 grueling hours asking questions of those who wanted this particular job. The last two to interview were known to be the strongest candidates. One came in and answered every question just like you would want her to. Every answer was the classic script of the way to get a job. The second came in. The answers were simple. Yet, the answers were penetrating at the same time. The answers were born of passion in the soul for what the job was about. But, they were bare of the classic scripted answers.

Discussion ensued. It appeared that the classic answers had won the day. But there was a spirit present. The issue could not be dropped. What should we as interviewers do with a person of such deep, noticeable, wrenching passion. So, one by one, to the person, the interviewers began telling of encounters they had had with this interviewee. Although not the most articulate, no one could let go of her penetratingly simple answers that represented everything the other one had crafted so well to say with many words. The spirit would not turn loose of the right person of the job until every person clearly had dealt with why the second person should get the job over the first person. It was a 180 degree swing from the way the discussion had begun.

The setting was secular, not religious. But, the wrong person for the job was about to be selected. Someone, somehow, called to the heavens and said, "You've got to intervene." Oh yeah, the right person got the job after people's minds encountered a passionate spirit.

I will ask this interviewee if she believes in God when she is settled into her job. I plan to tell her that intervention happened on her behalf. I'm just the messenger, but I hope the news will touch her life, so that her spirituality is strenthened, and that many can be nurtured by her good and helpful spirit.