Awkward Encounter

I had an amusingly awkward (on my part anyway) encounter last night.

I'd gone to Kensington (one of my favorite parts of the city) after work to meet a friend for tea and some dinner, and arrived significantly earlier than expected. After talking to her by phone and confirming that she hadn't yet arrived, and that we would have dinner instead of just tea, I decided to shop a little.

I visited several shops, ultimately deciding to check out the shop that the Canadian Bible Society recently relocated to the middle of Kensington. Our major local Christian bookstore closed last summer, and I'd never been to the Bible Society's new location, and was wondering if they'd increased their stock of books other than Bible's in response to that. So, I popped in, was greeted by the lady working in the shop, and began to browse.

A short time later, I'd selected a book that had recently been recommended to me as "one of the most helpful things I've ever read on prayer and hearing God's voice". I'd never seen this book in bookstores, and had planned to eventually purchase it online, and was delighted to find it in this shop.

The lady at the counter asked for my phone number, to look me up in their computer. I gave it, and my name popped up. She did a double take. "Lisa?" "Lisa P.?"

"yes."

"You've grown up!"

(Now, let me just say that as the daughter of a pastor who's been in full time professional ministry in our city for around 30 years, I'm used to having someone recognize my name. It happens all over the place. The Christian community in Calgary is not all that large when it comes right down to it. Once, when I emailed a university chaplain I'd never met, inquiring about a Bible study and worship time he coordinated, he wrote back with the information I was asking for and a question "Are you related to Doug P?" All that to say that in a shop like the "Canadian Bible Society", it was not an entirely unexpected thing for my name to create recognition.)

The lady carried on, "I'm S.W. Do you remember me?"

Cue awkward music.

Because now I'm in a bind. She's given me her name, and I do remember her. Quite well in fact. From some events that happened 16 years ago. At that time my dad was pastoring a large denominational church, that was going through a rather messy split. Because, heaven forbid the church be active in the community, and help single moms, or sing a few modern worship songs along with the beautiful hymns. My dad chose to resign rather than prolong the messy conflict, and was eventually approached by a group of people who expressed that they believed deeply in his ministry, and would still like him to be their pastor. They planted a church, and 16 years later many of those people who initially approached him still attend, and it's growing in ways that are great fun to watch, and having an impact in areas that are entirely unexpected.

But here's the thing. This woman, who wants to know if I remember her, is married to one of the people who 16 years ago led the charge against the small changes that Dad and his staff had implemented.

I settled for a vague "Sort of." response to her question (her response "you were pretty little"), and politely listened to her litany of how good it was to see me "grown up." How she just remembered me as a child and was excited to see me as an adult. (All I could think was "I was ten. I wasn't that little. I remember far more than you know. and, Sixteen years will tend to bring some aging to a child!") I nicely answered her questions about what I'm doing now (and she of course has heard of the Mennonite company that I work for) and managed to extract myself from the shop, and the awkward conversation.

I had to laugh. Of all the people I could have run into in Kensington, that was entirely unexpected.

And really, 16 years later, what am I supposed to say?

I've spent a lot of time working through some deep hurts from that time period. Working to forgive and move on with life. I saw clearly for the first time at the age of 10 the hypocrisy and brokenness that exists within the church. I've encountered it in various forms many times since. Each time it breaks my heart, and challenges my ability to love and forgive.

But those things don't get communicated in a two minute conversation over a purchase, with someone who is convinced you were too young to remember or be impacted.

So, as the evening passed, and my morning drive took place, and the memories from that time came back, I chose to talk with Jesus again about forgiveness. To remember the quote I posted last week about unforgiveness being a bit like a lead bullet left in a soldiers body - the wound disappears from the surface, but the bullet continues to leach poison. I chose again to conciously say "I forgive the hurt they caused me. I forgive the way they tainted my perception of Christ and his people. I forgive them for the maliciousness of their attacks against my dad."

And I smiled to myself at the timing of it all.