Miriel

Okay, I have been rather silent, but that is because I have been home doing…home things. Gavin (3 in August) was spending the night and since my flight was very late I had to wait till the morning to … change his poopy diaper. The last three days have included lots of kids and grand-kids, yard work including buying a load of organic compost (I was told that was redundant), trying to catch up on some emails and such, not writing the blog obviously, attending a track meet with the entire family to watch Matthew and his team, cleaning house because people were coming over…all the normal stuff of life. I actually packed for the trip for Chico, CA before I finished unpacking from the last one.

Part of the sadness of the week was the falling asleep of sweet Luke Jensen. Amy, who has been very involved with the Jensen family, had a meltdown at work and came home a bit early. Such a mixed bag, this life here on this planet. Against the darkest backdrop of evil and suffering we see scattered radiant diamonds, the litter of grace. I look into Miriel’s eyes (born Feb 2010) and I got lost in the depths. What universe within those portals lies beyond my comprehension? This is an eternal being and we have been given the honor of caring for her, even if only for such a short time. And then I look and see this magnificence everywhere, especially in sounds of laughter, the wiping of tears from the cheek, the growls of desperate prayer, and deep in the eyes; windows of the soul.

Reminds me of a Cockburn song, “In the Falling Dark”

And the lights lie tumbled out like gems
The moon is nothing but a toothless grin
Floating out on the evening wind
The smell of sweat and lube oil pervades the night
And the rush of life in flight at the speed of light

A million footsteps whispering
A guitar sounds — some voices sing
Smoke on the breeze — eyes that sting
Far in the east a yellow cloud bank climbs
Stretching away to be part of tomorrow’s time

Earthbound while everything expands
So many grains of sand
Slipping from hand to hand
Catching the light and falling into dark
The world fades out like an overheard remark

In the falling dark
Light pours from a million radiant lives
Off of kids and dogs and the hard-shelled husbands and wives
All that glory shining around and we’re all caught taking a dive
And all the beasts of the hills around shout, “such a waste!
Don’t you know that from the first to the last we’re all one in the gift of grace!?“

This particular Church began shortly after AA was brought to the city and is a center for recovery help. About 70 12-Step groups are hosted serving on average 2,500 people per month. They are also heavily involved in serving the prisons and this year received the prestigious Governor’s Criminal Justice Volunteer Service Award.

Again, as always, I met beautiful people. Some had recently lost members of their families to disease, accident and suicide. I think that the suicides are often the most devastating, especially if there was no warning and seemingly no reason.

I have come to the conclusion that suicide or attempting suicide is not evidence that a person has hit the bottom, but is more likely a way to avoid and run away from hitting the bottom. Having been there myself, if ‘feels’ like you have hit the bottom, the pain is so overwhelming and terrifying and the justifications for taking your own life seem so real and logical. I actually believed that the world would be a better place if I were not on the planet and that my children and Kim would be better off if I wasn’t around to hurt them. I was so tired, and it hurt so bad that this seemed like a way to make the pain stop. Actually, once I made the decision to leave this life everything calmed down, almost like the dead zone right before a tornado arrives. If it hadn’t been for God showing up in some friends…

I think suicide is the most fundamentally selfish choice a human being can make, even though in the moment you don’t consider or understand the devastation it will leave in its wake. The pain in the family that picks up your pieces is shattering, the guilt for not having saved you seems irredeemable and life is forever altered by your absence. Suicide is the greatest personal act of control, playing god with one’s own life and death. At the same time, I don’t believe that suicide is an impediment to the grace of God, some kind of unpardonable sin as is taught by some religious persuasions. When faced with one’s failures and damage, the choice is ultimately ‘to live’ not a choice to ‘not die’, which won’t be enough over time.

Hitting the bottom is marked by at least three things. First, a person who has hit the bottom stops pointing a finger at others as responsible in part or in whole for the damage and therefore the hurtful decisions that one has made. When my world fell to pieces, my façade crumbled, I didn’t care whose fault it was or who might have contributed to my pain and damage. Even though the process of healing usually includes exploring how others have hurt and damaged us (and forgiving), the only finger pointing was at myself and I had to fully own my ‘stuff’. Second, a person who has hit bottom lets go of control. You no longer dictate your process; instead you give yourself to it and often without contingency into the hands and care of others. I told Scott M (my counselor) the first day we met, “I promise you that I will not leave this process until you tell me I am done.” The third thing is that nothing is kept secret, no hidden stash of information, and no area that cannot be explored.

Jesus often asked the people who came to him, even the blind and lame, “What do you want?” To Jesus it wasn’t obvious and he invited the hurt to enter relationship and participate in the processes of their own freedoms. It is the first question in the Gospel of John, directed at John the Baptist’s disciples who had come to Jesus.

Regarding the hurt places of the soul, I think there are many of us who would rather hold on to the certainty of our pain and damage than the uncertainty of healing and freedom. Our pain becomes our identity and ‘change’ the enemy. God has come to us and removed many of the bars of our prisons and yet we still cling to the one bar that remains, gripped with white-knuckled intensity. When that moment comes, may we hear the still small voice whispering in our ears, “Daughter of Zion, free yourself.”

The morning started oddly.  I was about to step into the shower and turned on the faucet…no water, just the sound of a mighty rushing wind.  Seeing no tongues of fire, I decided to call the front desk and was informed that due to some sort of emergency the water had been turned off for 30-45 minutes.  Grrrrrr.  30 minutes later I got the call, “We are turning the water on, but it is going to take a while to warm up.”  Having taken cold showers before I turned the faucet back on.  Air came rushing out and bits of water and sediment in fits and starts, the whole system burping and sneezing its way back to life.  I let it run about five minutes and step into tepid water.  I should have looked down sooner.  The water was reddish brown.  I stepped out and waited another ten minutes and when I returned there was small piles of sediment in the bottom of the tub.  This hotel is very nice, but losing points.

I got my shower finally, packed quickly and headed to Lover’s Lane UMC for a book signing and final lecture at a luncheon.  Just before I left the hotel I discovered that my wallet is missing (yeah, I know, Kim…shhhhhh).  I prayed and then began mentally backtracking.  Several times I thought I figured it out but when I looked, no wallet.  I arrived at the event about 5 minutes late, a line already well formed.  I forgot about the wallet in the stories and hugs of those in line.  Later during the luncheon I mentioned my loss to those at my table and Donna perked up, “I saw it in the auditorium yesterday, let me go see if it is still there.”  Five minutes later it was back in my pocket.

I am not at the airport (DFW) waiting for my flight and catching up, before I board for Portland and home for three days.  There is something that I have wanted to write about so here goes.

Some of the stupid things people say to those who are suffering:

1. If you had enough faith, then Suzie wouldn’t be sick.
2. The tongue has the power of life and death, so stop saying Suzie has a brain tumor.
3. If you believe enough and confess with your mouth that Suzie is healed, then she will be healed.
4. Have you tried…fill in the blank.
5. Do you think there might be un-confessed sin in your life?
6. Suzie is God’s gift and He can take her when he wants to.
7. This was God’s plan for Suzie.

Now, having been ‘stupid’ myself, I understand the intent and motivation that often lies behind saying these kinds of things.  I wasn’t trying to be stupid; I was trying to help.  I thought I was bringing to bear the wisdom of God in a certain situation.  I truly thought what I was saying was going to be helpful and I thought what I was saying was true.  It is so easy to have the ‘word of the Lord’ when it isn’t your child, isn’t your husband, when you haven’t had the experience of watching someone deteriorate right in front of you, scream in pain, look at you like you should be able to do something, when it is you that feels so helpless and lost.  If you haven’t been there…keep your mouth SHUT.  Listen, be present, pray but don’t be God’s gift to make other people feel worse and even push them into the impossibility of living perfectly enough to avoid suffering.

Look at these things people say.  Give me a break.  Let’s put it this way, “Since you know about Suzie, how about we put you in charge of having enough faith, and if she dies it’s your fault.”  The whole premise of this ‘stupid’ statement is that faith is a ‘commodity’ that you can have ‘enough’ of it and once you have ‘enough’ (and nobody can tell you how much is enough) then you can do magic tricks.  It is a formula and formula has nothing to do with relationship.

Sure there is power of life and death in the tongue…your tongue.  Is what you are saying bringing and adding life to the situation, or are you speaking death?  This verse is not about healing but about the power of what we say to each other.

God doesn’t punish us because there is sin in our lives; God took the punishment we poured out on Jesus because there is sin in our lives.

It is so easy to be self-righteous when no one is sick in our family, when no one close to us is dying of cancer, when we think that the absence of suffering in our lives is because we have somehow made the right choices and are now receiving the reward.  Listen to me; everyone in this world is dying, right now.  You are going to die.  From the day you entered into this world you began dying.  If ‘faith’ could keep you healthy, surely there would be someone who never died, one person who had enough ‘faith’ to keep from deaths open maw.  God (Jesus) didn’t even escape it, but He did conquer it so much so that it was no longer called ‘death’ but ‘falling asleep’.  Some of us fall asleep quickly and quietly, others in great pain but we know who will kiss us awake and that hope is sure and certain.

The world is shattered.  We (humans) did that.  We made a declaration of independence, taking on the power of playing god, and then wonder why independent cancer cells are wreaking havoc in our bodies.  We bring to the cosmic table our communal sickness and demand that God fix it.  We require God stop the pain and suffering but out of good and kind respect for his creation he often refuses.  Does God do ‘anything’ that is not motivated by love?  NO!!!

There is so much about suffering that I don’t understand, but I will tell you this, it stops us in our tracks, makes us re-examine our sense of control, drives us into community (if we allow it) and transforms us in its crucible.  And then there is this mystery: we are somehow allowed to enter the holiest of places and share in the sufferings of Jesus, destroying evil by our presence in the midst of loss.  Some things are simply too precious to reduce to words.

Grandson Houston Parker - just because it was sent to me today

Yesterday in Nashville was full of meeting new people, friends of friends. Reminds me a little saying some of us have, “If you like someone you give them your time and money, but if you love them, you give them your friends.” Some of the most significant people in my life have been given to me by friends.

Turns out that the hotel, the Gaylord Opryland Hotel, is the largest hotel in the world that doesn’t have a casino. I can attest that it is huge, having lost my way in its maze of hallways and atriums more than once. In the evening about sixty men met to talk about life and relationships. Where can you get Dan Polk, Paul Colman and Matt Wertz in the same room signing John Denver’s ‘Country Roads’.

After I finally found my way back to my room I crashed for the night, but not before packing to leave the next morning. Breakfast at 8AM and then I spoke about the relational nature of God, the significance of the Trinity and why our understanding of the character and nature of God changes how we live. Then it was on to the airport to catch my Delta flight to Dallas via Memphis arriving at Love airfield about 4:20 PM.
Did I mention that I woke this morning to torrential downpours and rock and roll thunder? Chase gave me a lift to the airport and on the way I took a call from one of my daughters. She was a little distraught about having forgotten something that changed the course of her day. I encouraged her not to give it a second thought, that God has a way of creating purpose even or especially out of the choices and mistakes we make. I told her, “When something unusual or unexpected happens begin to look for the adventure.” Then they cancelled my flight.

I am standing at the counter when I look up and see that out of about a hundred flights on the board, two have been cancelled and one of those is mine. I have to grin as I tell myself, “When something unusual or unexpected happens begin to look for the adventure.” Don’t you love it when you have to eat your own words?

The wonderfully helpful clerk sets me up on an American Airlines flight and I head down to their desk. Another clerk checks my baggage. Turns out that the American flight is direct, they have to put me in first class and I will get to Dallas two hours earlier than the original flight. Trust me, this is not what normally happens. As I am boarding, one of the gate agents comes flying down the corridor. “Did you really write The Shack?” She gave me a hug and asked me a question about how the book started. I told them it was my wife’s, Kim’s, fault and explained. Another woman boarding in front of me stopped to watch this unusual interchange and then after we settled into our seats she asked for all the info on the book and promised to read it right away.

We landed at DFW (instead of Love Field) and I get quotes from three rental car agencies until I get a rate that is acceptable and headed to the hotel (no hotel score yet since I just got here). It is a Hilton and the room is comfortable. Tomorrow is going to be very busy. I speak four times and am part of lunch and dinner meetings and at least one book signing. I will try to blog tomorrow night.

Gaylord Opryland Hotel

Did I tell you that my contact person at Holland Christian School is Kathi Bates (Author meets Kathi Bates…hm). Turns out she is a sweetheart and both my legs still work. No Misery in Holland.

Kathi picks me up early and we go over the high school where I speak in the early morning chapel. I spoke about the power of our secrets, how the trap us inside. We can’t tell them because we are terrified we will lose control and whatever affection and approval we have managed to scratch together, but when we are offered affection and approval we can’t receive it because we don’t trust it because they don’t know the secrets. Lose/lose. Afterwords many students came up to talk and cry and hug. One young man broke completely down and was immediately engulfed by friends. They held him while he sobbed his heart out. They were the Church doing what the Church at its best does; loving and healing.

I spoke to a class of students and questions led to a good discussion. While Jesus did not have Shack on the inside, on the cross he took on all of ours and out of our lostness ‘felt’ as if Papa had abandoned him, which, of course was not true. And in our darkness, Jesus committed everything he had into Papa tender affection. Father, Son and Spirit accomplishing the purpose established before creation; our salvation, our healing.

A little after noon I boarded a flight via Cincinnati to Nashville. I was supposed to be going to Memphis to play a role in a historical drama, a movie. I know, weird….but kinda way cool too. There were supposed to be shooting scenes with my character, the founding director of Palmer Homes, along with my wife played by Billie Cash, a relative of Johnny Cash. The whole shooting schedule was delayed because James Earl Jones was trapped in England by the Iceland volcanic action that shut down air travel. I may still do the part but now my scheduling might not work…we will see. No expectations.

So I came to Nashville instead and yesterday and today have been filled with conversation with friends new and old. Even got to play golf this afternoon; first time this year if I remember correctly. The weather was beautiful here, but that didn’t help my score. A few years ago I decided to keep my ‘real’ score, so it gets pretty high. I like this actual scoring a lot better; sort of another example of the truth shall set you free. I made my only par on the last hole and that is enough to bring me back another day.

I am staying at the Gaylord Opryland Hotel.  My hotel ratings are as follows: Shower is 3.  Appearance, cleanliness etc is a 4.  Amenities is 3.5.  1 bonus points: they give me two free bottles of water a day and the view from my window (first pic on this blog) is very good.  Total score is 11.5 out of 17 (including the two bonus points), which is quite good.

Tomorrow (Friday) is another day of meetings and re-connections. I am running out of clothes so I have to hit a Laundromat sometime soon. I probably won’t blog until Saturday night. Saturday morning I speak here at a private event and then fly on to Dallas, where I will spend the weekend at Lover’s Lane United Methodist Church (not making this up), before flying home for three days next week. I am so ready to be with my family!!

It turns out the flight to Holland, Michigan is via Memphis, and after two flights I land in sunny Grand Rapids. The air is crisp; the temperature around 60 and Rick G takes me out to lunch at a local restaurant. The Tulip Fair begins May 1st but they are everywhere. He drives me around a small lake that sits in the middle of Holland and we look at beautiful houses along the waterfront. One of them is being built, belonging to Dick DeVos (of Amway fame) – see pic.

I am staying in an hotel on the campus of Hope College and I settle in, iron clothes for tonight and tomorrow and work on emails and other work related items.

I probably should have started this earlier, but I am going to sometimes rate hotels that I stay in. This is going to be a 15-point rating system. The first 5 points is for what I think is the most important thing in a hotel room, the shower. There is nothing better after flying all day then to step into a really good shower and wash away the travel grime. The second 5 points has to do with how clean, comfortable and inviting the room is. The third 5 points is for amenities, such as Internet, availability of outlets (a room with no outlets drives me crazy). You can add or subtract points for special things like breakfast, special features and surprises.

So tonight I am staying at the Haworth Inn on the Campus of Hope College. Without knowing what their continental breakfast is like, which could add or subtract a point or two, here is what we have.

Shower = 2. The water doesn’t smell nor is it oily (trust me, some places have greasy water, but the pressure is so poor you have to run around in the shower to get wet.

Comfort and cleanliness = 3.5 This is a nice hotel, the carpet is clean as is the room. It is roomy enough to move around easily and the Internet is free and fairly fast.

Amenities = 3 Third floor view is okay and there are barely enough outlets but I didn’t have to move furniture to find them.

If it wasn’t for the shower, this place would have done quite well 6.5 out of 10, but the shower is bad, so 8.5 out of 15.

The evening was sponsored by Holland Christian Schools and a lecture series called Living Stones, used as a benefit to raise funds to help pay for private school for families that simply cannot afford the tuition. Had a very special kiss of grace as relatives of Erin and Todd Barr came for the evening. If you remember Todd and Erin read The Shack a month before Todd was diagnosed with cancer and only a couple weeks ago walked through the thin place and into the embrace of Three. I had a number of conversations with both of them over the last months and was honored to be included in this journey. I had not actually met Erin or any of the family until tonight and it was very tender and sweet.

I signed a book tonight, “Grace sings your name…” and the woman began to cry. Grace is the name of her young granddaughter who drowned not long ago. Grace’s mom was also with her and we had a moment. I told you, “I hang around burning bushes all day.”

Tomorrow morning I speak at chapel for the Holland Christian High School, something that I am excited about. Then I catch flights that will get me to Nashville, TN. Goodnight. Thanks for coming along.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Yesterday when I arrived a huge tornado (sometimes two miles wide) ripped through Mississippi touching down over a 149 mile stretch. Ten people were killed and many injured. One amazing story is about a man who ran into a nearby church as the tornado approached and hid under the altar. The church was leveled and the only thing left standing was the altar and the man hiding under it survived.

Today I spoke with Baxter Kruger at a laid back intimate setting. Five hours with a couple breaks and it was wonderful. Before the event, Beth K and I headed out to buy some copies of The Shack. We found them at Wal-Mart and while we were self checking a clerk came over and told us what a great book we were buying. Beth introduced me as the author and she told us how the book had been instrumental in her life after a family death. Teary-eyed, she hugged me and thanked me.

The event focused on Perichoresis, a term used in the early church which means ‘mutual indwelling or mutual interpenetration of the persons of the Trinity’ and has the sense of inclusion into a great dance. It carries the understanding that Father, Son and Holy Spirit have included us into the great dance of their love, mutuality and union. We talked about how religion has destructively impacted many of us because it communicated a caricature of God as untrustworthy, distant, detached and disappointed, as if the Father had an agenda behind the back of Jesus. While Baxter brought the historic theology that undergirds The Shack, we both wove story and experience. People, especially the younger generations, are hungry for authenticity and for something that actually ‘works’ and would rather vote with their feet than commit themselves to something they consider archaic and ineffective.

A bunch landed at the Kruger house for Pizza and conversation and after a few hours I dismissed myself to seek some rest and comfort under blankets. I am headed there now.

Today, an incredible friend, Scott Closner, turns 49. May grace dog every day of this coming year. Sorry I missed the party.

This week, The Shack has reached 100 weeks on the New York Times Bestseller List.

Tomorrow is a day of rest and maybe a little fishing. I’ll try not to hurt myself.

“If Jesus would withdraw himself from the human race, they would vanish”          – quote regarding John 1:4 by John Calvin

Baxter and Steve messin with my fish

___________________________
Monday, April 26, 2010 was indeed a day of rest, for the most part. Baxter K and I spent the morning working on ideas such as how to creatively bring Trinitarian Incarnational understanding to the larger community of faith. I don’t think most people realize the extent that the book is ‘early Church’ orthodox.

This afternoon Baxter, Steve and I went Bass fishing. I was my first time and I am pleased to say, I never injured anyone, including myself, while casting. As tends to be in line with God’s sense of humor, Baxter and Steve, Bass fishing experts and highly experienced, each caught one and I caught five. I told them it is because God helps beginners.

Tomorrow I get up at 4:30AM to catch an early flight to Grand Rapids, MI via Memphis TN, where I will be speaking at the Holland Schools.

Stormy Atlanta

Early morning breakfast at 5:45AM with Margaret – all the frosted mini-wheats and sliced bananas I could eat. Then a ride in Suzie, a rattletrap Corolla, to the Philly airport. On Delta, so I breeze through security and use the extra time to visit airport bookstores and sign copies of The Shack.

Rough ride to Atlanta. There are lots of storms and we have a bumpy landing. I soon find out that we are fortunate as many other flights have been re-routed to other cities. But then, not so fortunate, as our jet to Jackson, MS, was one of those re-routed. My flight is delayed two hours. At one point because of lightning all ground crews were brought indoors, and the airport ground to a standstill as we waited for the storm to pass. Again, I visited bookstores and signed books.

Baxter Kruger, Mississippi’s Trinitarian Incarnational theologian (and my good friend) and another friend, Dirk (who runs the airport) meet the plane as we de-board and lots of hugs. The evening event is a crawfish boil, and Baxter is the mater of this Southern tradition. Following are the pictures of the process, just in case you don’t know how this works.

You start with the crawfish...three bigs of live critters

This is the 'secret' stuff

'base' of the secret stuff BK = Baxter Kruger

The 'cookin' place

Salt Water bath to make the crawfish puke

In a big strainer combine sausage, mushrooms, potatoes, corn and crawfish

Into the boiling roux, instant crossing over

Dr Baxter - trinitarian theologian and crawfish cook - knows how to stir it up

Time to eat

Special skills required - little fire in the mouth

If you would like some ‘enlightening’ reading check out Baxter’s website, www.thegreatdance.org.  Worth your time.

Gathering at the Krugers are many friends that I haven’t seen in quite a while, some of them from last year when I was part of a conference here. One is Bill W (no, not the AA founder), and during the evening he tells me a story that I want to pass along.

Bill was asked by a member of his church to visit a relative who was mentally unstable and had tried to kill herself four times in one afternoon. He arrives to find her strapped down in the medical psych ward, her abdomen bandages where she had used a knife to stab herself repeatedly. She then had taken an overdose of pills and smashed the glass she drank them with and used the edge of the broken glass to saw her throat open. Now she lay there strapped to a bed with a tracheotomy and unable to speak. Bill had no idea what to say. He pulled up a chair next to her and this is what he finally said to her:

“You belong to the Father, Son and Spirit. You always have. You always will. He loves you and likes you. You are his beloved child.”

He waited and then said it again and then again. He said it to her about ten times and huge tears began running down her face. Over the next weeks she was transformed. Her family marveled at the changes in her.

The truth of what Bill spoke to her is what each of us is coming to understand. Father, Son and Holy Spirit have loved us from before the foundation of the world, have loved you, have loved me. By intent we were included into the love that dances between Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and in exchange the Three have climbed into our darkness and blindness to heal us from the inside.

It looks way worse in person

I meet her; one of those connections that God makes out of what could have been an irritation. A storm out West caused our jet to arrive two hours late. On top of that, I arrived at the airport four hours early. When something unforeseen happens, l start looking for the adventure.

It began unexpectedly. I am sitting at a computer counter next to my gate writing yesterday’s blog when a distraught woman approaches the agent.

“I can see my flight out the window. It is still at the gate. Can I get on?”

“I am sorry, but once the door is closed, it is out of my hands.”

She runs over to the door and begins pounding on it, calling back across the waiting area, “Can’t you call them? Can’t you get them to come open the door?” She keeps pounding. And me? I am feeling bad for everyone.

The pounding lady doesn’t realize that they have pushed the jet away from the gate so there is no way she is going to get on board. I walk over and tell her and head down she heads back to the ticket counter to reschedule her flight.

That’s when I meet Louise Mackenzie-Hall, a 24-year-old Danish woman. She is obviously in pain and struggling to get out of a wheelchair while managing crutches and two bags. “Can I help you with something?” I ask.

She smiles and in a thick lilting accent says, “I need to go get something to drink, but….”

The solution is obvious. I offer to watch her bags and wheelchair while she went off to do whatever.  I was working on the computer anyway and after we maneuvered everything next to where I was sitting, she headed off. Half an hour later, she crutches back and once in her wheelchair, we sat and talked. The obvious question was “So what happened?”

“It is actually very silly. I live and work in Annapolis, MD, for a Danish shipping company. We have about 60 oil ships in our fleet and I help manage the schedules and cargos. So I, and some others from our office are down here in Houston visiting a client and we decided to hire rickshaws to see the city. Well, our client thought it might be fun if we raced each other, so he chose to be the runner for the one I was in. Rickshaws are much harder to steer than you can imagine and within 90 feet my client ran right into the only pole in the street, destroying the rickshaw and launching me out of it. Believe it or not, it is just a very bad sprain and not broken.”(see pic)

You had to be there…young woman with Danish accent explaining an accident while racing rickshaws in Houston. You couldn’t make this stuff up.

About that time it was announced that her flight was delayed four hours. So we ‘hung out’ for a few hours. I showed her pictures of my family and she showed me one of her brand new niece. She asked about my work and I tried to explain the book and what had happened. I pushed her down to the food area and she ate pizza while I tried to eat some bad Chinese. I asked lots of questions about Denmark and her family. At one point she told me she got her eyes from her mother.

“Eyes are the windows of the soul,” I responded.

She thought for a moment and then said, “Well put.”

“Actually, that is a quote from the Bible.”

“The Bible? Ah, that is a book that I have never read. In Denmark only few of the older folk even go to church. About the only thing we ever do in the church is get christened and married. Other than that no one I know is concerned about spiritual things. I have been thinking of reading the Bible. For some reason I have been wondering about it. How should I start?”

I told her about Eugene Peterson’s The Message and how to start with the Gospels, since they were full of stories. As I tell her, she types it all into her Blackberry along with The Shack information and my email. She promises to send me a note when she finishes the book.

That is all I feel nudged to do or say. I believe that the Holy Spirit know very well how to gracefully love this young woman into the wonder of relationship. I am just thankful that I got to participate, even in such a small way.

A delightful visit and we hug goodbye like old friends as I leave to board my flight. She doesn’t know it, but for a couple hours it was almost like being with my own daughters. Louise gave me a gift, her presence lifting my heart, a little kiss of grace from home.

On the flight to Philly, I sit next to Nathaniel, a three year old and her grandmother. We watch ‘Alvin and the Chipmunks’ movie, The Squeekuel (I am told). I didn’t realize ‘Chuck’ was in that movie. When I ask her how many grandbabies she has, Nathaniel pipes in, “I have two…two sisters. That is all I have.”

The main building - sleeps 56 guests

We arrive at Raphaela’s Center in Haverford, PA, sometime after 1AM and I am escorted to the ‘Hermitage’, a two room plus bathroom away from the main building. Sister Margaret and Sister Asunta, who picked me up at the Philly airport, bid me goodnight and I soon crash, tired and content.

Six sisters of the order of ‘The Handmaids of the Sacred Heart of Jesus’ have brought me here to speak to about 120 Friday night at their chapel, a simple and beautiful windowed room looking out onto the landscaped property. Margaret, author of The Eucharist and Social Justice, and professor at Villanova, Ruth, who will be 90 in July and is a little hard of hearing (when I told her I was the author, she looked up at me and said, “You think you are holier?”), Uyen-Chi, American Vietnamese studying in Seminary, K-Joy, who quickly made sure I was being well taken care of, Asunta, a Vietnamese Vietnamese who made sure I was well fed, and Philamena, who at 94 is full of pep and spunk. I love these women.

Picture of a picture...will try to get a better one tomorrow

I had a delightful and restful day, walking the grounds, catching up on some reading, taking a nap, visiting with the sisters, going out for supper with sister Margaret to a local Chinese restaurant (much better than Houston airport), and then speaking for about two hours followed by signing books and lots of hugs.

I am now about to go to sleep. 6AM breakfast is scheduled with the sisters before I head off to the airport and flight to Jackson MS, via Atlanta.

Everywhere I go I meet extraordinary people, or maybe I am more able to see how extraordinary human beings truly are. Everywhere you look, as Cockburn would say, you see ‘rumors of glory’. “You plunge your hand in, you draw it back scorched, something is shining like gold, but better, rumors of glory.” I don’t hold any hope in politics or religion or systems created out of our independent need for control, but I have a sure certainty in the presence of multitudes of incredible human beings who are changing the world one hug, one kindness, one act of forgiveness,  choosing to do the hard work, telling their secrets, asking for help, loving their children, repenting, remaining faithful, asking for forgiveness, one demonstration of love at a time.

Today is a down day, a travel day with no speaking. When I helped set up this trip’s schedule there was a question about the possibility of getting a tour of the Houston Space Center (NASA), so I included an extra day just to be sure. That is one thread that led to today.

Cute?...not exactly!

A second thread occurred a year ago when I traveled last year to a cabin just outside of Colorado Springs, Colorado, to work with a woman on the potential screenplay for The Shack. Her name is Linda Seger, a screenwriting coach who has consulted on over 2000 screenplays with the likes of Ron Howard, Ray Bradbury and Jennifer Hildebrand. She has also presented her seminars in more than 30 countries on 6 different continents. Linda is the author of several books including the bestselling Making A Good Script Great, and Spiritual Steps on the Road to Success. She holds an M.A. in Religion and the Arts from Pacific School of Religion, Berkeley, California, a ThD in Drama and Theology from The Graduate Theological Union, Berkeley, California, and an M.A. in feminist theology from Immaculate Heart College Center, Los Angeles, California. She has been a member of the Religious Society of Friends (Quakers) since 1970. She also likes to ride horses and regularly puts on horse dancing exhibitions for her friends and family.

A third thread also occurred even earlier last year, when during a regular and routine physical I told my doctor that I had started to experiencing shaking in my hands. It was diagnosed as Familial Extreme Tremors, a genetic neurological disorder gifted to me in a long list of congenital defects that I inherited from my mother. Others include broken kneecaps, extra half a vertebra in my low back, weak eyes and freckles. I like freckles. “A face without freckles is like a night sky without stars.” The shaking in my hands increases with stress and with being tired.

A couple months after the diagnosis I was sitting in Linda’s house, poster papers plastered all around the room as we worked on the screenplay bones, and she asked me about my trembling hands. Turns out she has her own neural challenge, forget the word…starts with a ‘d’…anyway, she has the involuntary clamping of muscles. After we commiserate for a bit, she tells me that she is getting help from this neuro-chiropractor in Houston, Dr Henry. After a couple emails, the doc, who just happened to have read the book and loved it, tells me that if I am ever in Houston to drop in and she would give me the once over.

So I book this extra day, thinking I am going to NASA with Smith, but Smith gets the call from Florida that they are rolling out the Shuttle and need him there Thursday. Got to do NASA yesterday and Smith and I head out very early to Hobby Airport for his 8AM flight. We took a cab, and half way to the airport had to pull over and switch taxis – seems the first guy stole the second one’s call, which I guess is not a good idea, and the first guy figured it wasn’t worth getting killed over.  No discount.  Ah, the adventures of the road.

After dropping off Smith, the cabby delivers me to Dr Henry’s office, where I spend the next half hour filling out the always-required paperwork. Over the next six hours I am poked, prodded, relieved, listen to Mozart with electrodes attached, sniffed peppermint and watched a band of red and white pass in front of me repeatedly. Did you know that every one of us has a very real blind spot, an area that each eye cannot see but is filled in by the brain? We mapped it five times during the day, watching it shrink and get more symmetrical as I did my brain exercises. Doc says that the last thirty years has given us unprecedented information about the brain.

That reminds me about a book I read recently. Hooked: New Science on How Casual Sex is Affecting Our Children by M.D. Joe S. McIlhaney Jr and M.D. Freda McKissic Bush. This is a science book, not a faith-based study, and the conclusion is that casual sex and having multiple partners not only creates synaptic bonds and therefore addictions, but the damage to the brain reduces our ability to bond in relationships. They write that contrary to evolutionary theory – that we are innately polygamous – the brain research of the last thirty years has proven that we were designed for monogamy.  What a surprise, eh?!

Six hours later, I feel a lot better. My tremors have reduced substantially and I a list of exercises to help my brain get healthier in the areas that are faltering. By the way, walking and swimming (especially the back stroke) are two of the best brain exercise activities. Yes, my mom is partly to blame, but so is the accident I had in the late 1970s; I was a pedestrian crossing a street and hit by a high-risk 17-year-old driver doing 55mph in the center turning lane. Another simple example how God is not the author of evil, but promises to show up in the middle of the damage we bring to the table, and uses what we offer to accomplish good. If it had not been for that accident there is a good chance that I would not have married Kim. So the accident sucked, but I am eternally grateful for what God did with the messes that I brought to the table.

Nina picks me up and drops me at Hobby. I am early and thinking that I might be able to catch an earlier flight to Philadelphia, I approach the Southwest counter. My flight scheduled for 6:50PM has been delayed to 8:30PM and I will get into Philly well after midnight. There is an option, but it is also delayed and if I take it, I could easily spend the night in Orlando. No thanks. I think I’ll just hang around and see what happens. Gives me a chance to write this blog anyway.  So, if you read this on Thursday…I am probably still in Houston.