Bumping Into Jesus
"Bumping into Jesus" was one of many religious catch phrases a friend and I were discussing this morning at a retreat. While I never would've have said this before, I've been thinking about this all day and have suddenly discovered that I've been bumping into Jesus for years.
God is with all of us, all the time, whether we choose to acknowledge it or not. Sinner or saint, man or woman, young or old, nice or mean, open-minded or running in the opposite direction, God is always attempting to commune with us. He is constantly sending us messages and signs, each and every day. Just as God made each of us unique, I believe the way he chooses to communicate with each of us is unique as well. It's all a matter of recognizing it when you see/hear it. And like learning any new language, the more you us it, the easier it is to read.
So I started thinking back to when I first saw God's hand at work.
It was the beginning of the summer of 1985 and I was 15. My father, for reasons I no longer remember, took a week or two tour around the country to visit his family. He went to Michigan and then to California to spend some time with his two sisters, their families, and to visit with his mother and step-father. Several weeks later Tim, one of my favorite older cousins, (from this side of the family), for what I recall was just a "need to get away" planned a trip to New Jersey to visit with my family during the last week of August.
August came and we drove my brother back up to Boston for his sophmore year of college. I came back with my parents and a few days later my cousin came to visit. I was just a kid, and it's now been so long, I can't recall if this was a scheduled procedure or what, but my dad went in the hospital for angioplasty on some partially blocked arteries in his heart. Long story short, his heart stopped and he died.
While the experience was surreal to a 15 year old, there were three things that struck me even then. First, that my dad felt this overwhelming desire to visit every member of his immediate family that summer. At the time I thought that he "just knew", but now I see it as part of God's plan. Second, that God sent my cousin Tim to be with my mother and I during this difficult time (especially since my brother was away). And third, well, it's going to sound strange.
You see, there was this cat. I remember all of the adults being inside the house, people visiting, crying, dropping off food, etc. I was sitting alone on the front steps of my house. At this point, I was mainly crying because it tore me up to see my mother cry (I had never seen her cry before), and I was still in shock. Being a teenager, I also just didn't know what to do with myself in this situation. So I sat outside, trying to catch my breath, and along comes this cat out of the bushes. He walks right up to me and starts purring and winding himself in and out of my knees until I pet him. I sat there and cried to this poor animal like there was no tomorrow. Then I had to go inside, and I guess he went away. Next day, same thing, and for a few days after. A week or so went by, the out of town folks went home, my brother went back to school, and my mom and I tried to move on with life. I saw the cat in the back of the yard once or twice, and then I never saw him again.
Okay, yes, it was just a stray cat. At the time, however, I was convinced it was my dad's way of comforting me. His way of visiting me and giving me a way to grieve, and to tell me things would be okay. Twenty-odd years later, I am more than certain this was bigger than that - it was my father and God together, communicating the way that only God can, in a way that only I understood. I not only "bumped" into Jesus here, I cried on his shoulder!
Unfortunately my dad was gone before I was old enough to know him, so I spent the next ten or so years of my life trying to get glimpses through the books he owned. I started with some on religion and philosphy (many of which were way, way over my head), and finally found "Illusions" by Richard Bach. I've since read this book a million times over, as it not only spoke volumes to me about God, life, and finding yourself, but it always made me feel close to my dad when I held it in my hand.
As the years have gone by, I've had plenty of "signs" from my dad during times I was missing him. As I tried to articulate through tears this morning, the most recent was a few weeks ago in Washington DC.
My brother and his family were visiting, and I took them and my 4 year old to the Air & Space Museum in DC. It was near the end of our visit and my sister-in-law took my three nephews to the flight simulators, while my brother, daughter and I opted to explore another exhibit.
We ended up in the air craft carrier section, which we thought was interesting since our dad had served as a medic on the Bon Homme Richard. We wandered through, my brother reading every sign like he does, and at one point we happened upon a plane suspended from the ceiling directly in front of us. On the side of the plane was written "Bon Homme Richard" - meaning this plane was part of the aircraft carrier that my father served on. (I'm sure there were several with the same name over the years, so impossible to know if it was the exact same one or not- either way, we were moved by this) Suddenly I was immersed in thoughts of my dad. I looked around to see videos of these carriers, pieces of the insides of these boats, and I was surrounded by what a portion of my dad's life was like when he was a young man.
Then my daughter got restless, and I was a little more emotional than I'd like to be in the middle of a museum, so I went to wait for my nephews outside the flight ride. I sat on this long bench with the 4-year-old on my lap and looked up at the beautiful exbihit on the wall. In the middle of the wall in foot-high letters was a quote from "Illusions" by Richard Bach. I can't remember what it said, the book is about a prophet who is a pilot, so it obviously had to do with flight, and life and soaring spirits, but it simultaneously reduced me to tears while providing the comfort I needed at that moment. Coincidence? Perhaps, but I don't believe in coincidence. That was a message from my dad, through God - "I see you. I'm here. Take comfort."
How amazing of God to meet me at the museum?
And after this rather long post, I hope you can look back and see a few places where God has met you already, but perhaps you didn't realize it at the time. Open your eyes. Open your heart. Or don't. God will keep trying to communicate with you, over and over and over...
Posted by
Laura
at
21:53:38
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