Monday, March 26, 2007

The surprising sacred moments

I'm thinking, just now, about finding the sacred in the most commonplace of happenings, even in the things that are disappointing.

I was supposed to be fasting today, part of a commitment to seek God's face through this Lenten season. I'd already planned to make it shorter than normal, because of some health and physical energy issues I've been having lately, but ended up having to break the fast by noon, instead of at dinner as planned. I was developing a fairly severe headache, and the fruit juice I was drinking to bring my blood sugar wasn't putting a dent in it. But, you know, I found God anyway, in little ways through the day.

In conversations, in enjoying the food, since I knew it was a treat to be consuming it. In dinner out with my best friend. In chatting about the stuff of life, her hospital stories (she's a nurse), a few of my recent "blond" moments at work. In flipping through some pictures she hadn't seen from a road trip we took together last fall. In the book I'm reading. In the U2 I was playing at work today. In a compliment from my boss.

I met Jesus in lots of little places today, and I'm grateful for the surprising sacred moments.

Saturday sighting

So just as a random, Monday morning story, I thought I’d mention something that I spotted on Saturday.

A group of us were walking along 17th Avenue (the infamous “Red Mile” in Calgary) to get some lunch, and a well-dressed guy in a suit, bigger sort of guy, with a shaved head walks by. Something seems funny, and we all clue in at once. This man, in a suit, walking along a major downtown street, has a very large, very alive snake wrapped around his neck. And he is acting as if it is perfectly normal to do your Saturday afternoon errands with a snake of this sort wrapped around your neck.

I admit that we were rather incredulous, and there was definitely some pointing and exclaiming, as we watched him walk further on, and waited for a light to change so we could cross the street. Somehow, snakes and things just don’t belong on the major downtown street, unless they’re dead and have been made into shoes or bags!