happy easter!

today is easter.  and i have a celebratory migraine- either from too much left over easter bunny chocolate or my not-routine-over-exertional run, or not enough water and having wine with my easter dinner.  but despite my headache, it's been a good day.

the sermon was about the road to emmaus, about Christ showing up on an ordinary road to some of the ordinary guys who hung around with him.  it was not spectacular, it was not monumental or full of pomp and circumstance-it was plain and simple- kind of like the way he entered the world the first time- in a stable- with some hay and animals.  the point being that God shows up in our ordinary lives, where we are, not necessarily where we'd expect, not only in a church or a cathedral or a temple.  i have felt God show up three times, in an undeniable way, in very non-dramatic ways. but all of them were in san francisco, so maybe God likes the bay area as much as i do.

the first was late at night in my friends apartment when i felt really alone and tempted to reach for something i'd let go of, to deal with that feeling.  i was wrestling with this and i felt this strange sense of 'presence' that i can only describe as God.  i didn't hear any audible words, i promise, but if the feeling could be put into words it was saying, 'i am enough for you'.  

the second time was when i was pregnant with jude and had just been told at my 20 week ultrasound that he was likely going to be severely handicapped (see post from last year 'happy birthday jude').  that night i had a dream and God showed up in the dream dressed like a young doctor.  i was crying and said to him, ' i can't handle this'.
he replied, ' you have no idea what you can handle'
i told him, ' but i don't want this'
he replied,  'i know.'
and reached out and held me and cried with me.
when i woke up, i felt peace- i felt no matter what, with out a promise or even a word that things would be 'ok', i would not be abandoned.  that i was known, held, comforted.

the third time was in the basement MRI suite at moffitt long hospital- while jude was being swallowed by that giant magnet to look into his little head and see how much his tumor had grown- and we paced- and bit our lips and didn't make much eye contact to hold in the tears- and there it came- that sense of 'presence' followed by peace.  no words, not even a sense that the scan would be fine or that all would be well- just a promise that in the pain and crap and fear and suckiness of life, we are not abandoned.  we are not consumed.  and that is enough. 

basement hallways, my bed at night, a friends living room- ordinary spaces- but places of great need.

there have been other times though, other seasons of great need, when i wanted to feel that 'presence' and i didn't.  when i even asked, or cried out, but i felt nothing but the echo of my own need bouncing around.  and i don't know why this is.  i've wondered about it.  but in those times when i have not felt the 'divine', other people have showed up.  friends or family have responded to that need.  people who know me- who get me, or even if they don't, they try to.  sometimes it's even been people who don't know me, random strangers, or minimal acquaintances,  but some how, somebody has shown up.

maybe in those times when we know enough to know we are in need, when we know enough to cry out, God shows up in other people- our answers come in human words and embrace, a phone call, a letter, sometimes just a smile. 

maybe we are that answer for each other in this great spinning world.  so we need to be still.  we need to be 'present'.  we need to pay attention- even when we walk down ordinary streets- on ordinary days- beside ordinary people- who might need for us to show up.