A Weekend Full of Stories

Thursday
Went to see Guys and Dolls. It was fantastic!

Friday
Get an email saying that the short faith story I thought I was sharing at church this Sunday was indeed supposed to be replacing the sermon for all three services. I have no time to write anything up before now and then. Then I had an important coffee chat before heading off to Stouffville for a leadership-training weekend for GTA students. I was introduced to some of the students I’ll get to know next year. Barely slept Friday night because I was tossing and turning on the tiles of a change room floor. Gotta love retreats.

Saturday
Start the day tired, but spend some really great time diving into the beginning of the story of Moses in Exodus. His fears, feelings of displacement, and identity issues resonate profoundly both with students and myself in the present time. When this is over at 3 o’clock, I rush with some other staff to a wedding shower. The shower was a lot of fun, and I’m glad I could be there. I was rooting for a guy named Jeff in the newlywed game, but then he called Obama and Ignatieff commies, so revisionist history tells me I was rooting for Frank all along.

When this is over, I rush back to Hamilton, jot down some quick thoughts about what I could say in the morning, before remembering the part in Exodus earlier that day when God says he’ll give Moses the words to say. Rather than shirk that responsibility like Moses does, I decide to let God take control of what I’m going to say in the morning. I go to bed at 11 o’clock.

Sunday
I must have been extremely tired, because I didn’t hear the car slam into the telephone pole outside my window at 2 o’clock in the morning, but I sure did hear the emergency crews that came immediately. The flashing lights in my window force me to get up and see what’s going on. A car drove straight into the pole. Some people went to the hospital, but I think it was more for bruises and smoke-inhalation from the airbags. I still cannot believe the initial crash didn’t wake me. It took place literally 8 feet from my basement bedroom window.

While outside seeing the hustle and bustle of the emergency crews, I met one of the upstairs neighbours in the building who I haven’t met. It’s actually the first person I’ve officially met, and much friendlier than other people in the building. She says she enjoys hearing the piano being played in our apartment (and I thought it was a nuisance). When things start to quiet down we go back inside, and I go to bed. But the tow truck comes around 3:30, and it’s beeping while backing up keeps me awake. I’m sure I finally fell asleep at 4 o’clock.

Wake up at 7 o’clock, shower, grab a quick bowl of cereal, and rush off to church. I share my now-much-longer faith story with all three services, and God kicks butt by giving me the words to say. It felt great being able to share my story with the people I usually meet with at the 9:30 service, and there were no nerves whatsoever for that service. I feel safe and open in that context, and I found it very meaningful to be able to share my personal story with those I’ve come to know as family over the past year.Now I’m home in the apartment, and hopefully going to get some rest. I’ll be hearing from Pastor Pillow at the Bedside Baptist this afternoon, but I thought I should write this all down before I forgot about it.