A Day Without Religion

I did nothing overtly religious Tuesday.

Because I needed to go to the Jacksonville Fire Museum to see Lt. Treadwell, the curator, to tie up some loose ends with my book on the history of firefighting in Jacksonville, I drove Ginny to work and kept the car.

Several odd things happened.

Borderline religious experiences that made me think that Jesus lurks just at the corner of my eye, yet out of sight. No big epiphany , just everyday things that make me realize we walk every day through the world of the Spirit. That there’s more to life than the seen. That we move on the edge of wonder. That Jesus Himself walks unseen right at your elbow.

First, I dropped Ginny at her office then drove to Dave’s Diner for breakfast. An old guy came in and sat in a booth across from me. Nicole, the waitress, reminded him to take his medicine. He ordered something and she reminded him that he had to drink milk with his pills. She acted so caring and motherly toward this old man; surely such care lies beyond the duties of a waitress. I felt so touched by her kindness.

Nothing overtly religious here. Just goodness acted out in a corner diner.

At the hardware store—yes, yesterday as the temperature reached 87 degrees, I finally did get the swimming pool pump working and the pool clean except I needed some hose clamps today when the temperature here dropped to a record low of 37 degrees!

I don’t see the hand of Jesus in that!

But anyhow, at the hardware store, the guy in plumbing directed me to the guy in electrical conduit. As I approached, the young hardware guy stood listening intently to an old man, (a farmer?).

I waited my turn.

The farmer was saying he could not be away that long. “I need to be there to feed my dogs. And milk the cows. And the take care of the horses. If I’m not there, they’ll die. The doctor just don’t understand that. He says I’ll have to be in there a week or ten days. I can’t stay in there that long. My animals need tending”.

I could see the wheels turning in the hardware clerk’s mind. He was considering it. He really was thinking of volunteering to care for those animals while the farmer was in for his operation.

“Got to get going. Cain’t be away from the place too long. I’ll come in for that other stuff tomorrow,” the farmer said hobbling away.

“Are you part of his family,” I asked the clerk.

“No. He doesn’t have any family. He’s just a customer; comes in here regular. He’s got cancer and this is his forth operation”.

That’s what the clerk said… but his eyes, his mind was on something else. Hungry dogs and horses and cows. He was thinking about it. He really was.

I have no idea if he actually will tend the customer’s animals.

But the mere fact that the young man would consider doing such a thing thrilled me.

I thought Jesus is in Aisle 42.

Aisle 42, electrical conduit, is holy ground.

Walk carefully.

At your next step you may bump into God.

I drove off with my hose clamps (too cold to wallow in the mud to put them on today) and the car radio said something about some company laying off workers.

I thought I ought to maybe pray for the unemployed… Who do I know that’s unemplo—Pete!

Why in the world would I think of Pete?

Plenty of folks I know better and who live closer to me are looking for work; there’s Randy and Rick and Greg and Linda and Nathan and Helen and Homer and Reece and Alex … and Pete who lives a world away.

But Pete is the person who sprang strongly to mind.

He’s a guy lives in England who used to comment on my blog now and then. A couple of months ago (see May & June in my blog archive) , my computer overheated and melted stuff in the hard drive. I lived without a computer for close to two months. It was eventually restored but, in the process, I lost all my favorites and bookmarks and site links—including Pete’s. No contact with him in the months since.

Pete got laid off (only over there in Britain they call it “being made redundant”) from his job back before we lost contact. Out of sight, out of mind. I have not thought of him in ages…

But, as I drove to the fire museum, my mind fixed on him so I prayed for Pete.

This evening when I got home, guess who had commented on my yesterday morning’s blog?

Nothing supernatural in my day, just tiny hints of things far beyond myself.

Like I said starting out, I did nothing overtly religious today, common ordinary mundane things, but I feel as though I’ve walked near Jesus all day.

I don’t see Him.

I never do.

But there’s a shadow beside my own.