I wait for the trolley near the
train station. It’s getting quite late and the street lights are glistening in
the puddles that formed after the rain. Same streets. Same trolleys. Same trees. Same apartment
building. Same mom and dad. Everything
is the same. On the outside, I look pretty much the same as well. And yet, holding my same old duffel bag, I
feel like I just got off an intergalactic space ship. Everything
is different. All the books on the
shelves in my home library have no words to quite contain what I am garbling to
express on the inside. For once in my life, I am left speechless.
My mom and dad dismiss my initial excited
Jesus-loves-me-I-love-Jesus announcement as a passing fad. I try to convince them that it’s not a fad, that it is more real than
anything I’ve ever done in my entire life, but seeing the expression on their faces makes
me drop the subject, realizing I must allow time to do the speaking on my
behalf.
I am reading the Bible – no, more like
devouring the Gideon copy of the New
Testament entrusted to me as a good-bye gift – for breakfast., lunch and
dinner, and several snacks in between.
The words on the pages are vibrant with life, and energy and vitality –
I can’t get enough of it. I finally got
my own personal mail and every word of it is mind-blowing. There is still a lot I don’t understand, but,
as instructed, I skip over those passages and latch on like a new-born on the
life-giving flow pouring out from…
Abide in Me and I in you. As a
branch can not bear fruit of itself, no more can you, unless you abide in Me. I
am the vine, you are the branches...He who abides in bears much fruit... Apart
from Me you can do nothing.
Interestingly enough, along with
the spiritual adrenaline rush, the new horizons opening up, the massive influx
of new information to process and digest, I find myself increasingly
incompetent in the things I used to do without giving them a thought, simple
things like baking.
I should be able to handle this on my own, I am frustrated with
myself as I toss the ruined batch of dough into the garbage can. But, soon it
becomes evident that this is not a coincidence but only a beginning of a
life-long process of unlearning the deeply
ingrained habit of managing my world and all its details –big and small - on my
own.
For this God, who holds the Universe He created in the palm of His hand, who shook and
uprooted the foundation of my life and tore down its lofty strongholds
apparently enjoys making breakfast casseroles with me.
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