“Yes Lord, I believe!” said the man in John 9 and the woman in John 11 and the dad in the NT book of Mark. They experienced gospel moments of healing and a few decades later some guys wrote about the man/woman/dad and what had happened. These writing guys had already said, “Yes Lord, I believe”; now a couple thousand years later here we are living the same kind of moments and saying the same thing:
“Yes Lord, I believe!”
Another me, one back then in a former life, might have said “I don’t believe it.”
But I—this me—believe it and I simply embrace it. It happens too often these days, and has happened far too pointedly in days passed (past?), either to ignore or to disbelieve.
Besides I love it when it happens and I am a guy who along with Mulder also says, “I want to believe” cuz it is so much more fun and you get to be amazed more, you know? You believe these things too, and you smile, and there is some joy and hope and a dose of peace and you get a real kick out of it like I do.
The best part of it? It never ends. Just ask this guy:
I had this figurine because someone gave it to me—from their happy meal, I suspect, or maybe they found it—and I was thinking about Buzz this morning and was going to pick Buzz up and put him where he is now. As my head was buzzing I looked at my phone, planning to take a picture, and simultaneously my phone did something that it does sometimes (my laptop does it too, yea!), and even now I am laughing, shaking my head just like I was this morning. It’s true: all the way to infinity and beyond.
That was this morning, as I said.
Yesterday, I went to Olympia, WA because the 90-year-old uncle of a dear friend needed a visit. I was very thankful for my new hip because Uncle needed a lot of help to move around and I enjoyed very much the many times I was able to lift him and scoot him and help him walk, because I am walking just fine. And you can put all your weight on me, I told him, but he is still all man and he wanted to do it himself, yet he is smart enough to know that he needs help and it is okay.
I believed everything he told me as we talked and laughed, sitting at the table, and he is 90 years old and has seen thirty more years of this life than I have, things I have not seen, so as he told me of heaven and what awaits him, and as he told me about welding that swing set in the back (really good bead that you drew–what kind of arc welder did you use?, and I like those cross brackets that you put in) and he told me it is set in concrete two feet deep and I could not see two feet down into the earth of Olympia, WA, but I know what is down there: concrete.
Because I believe.
Wow, Aunt cooked a really fine homemade pizza with a crust from a family recipe and what’s the secret?
“Pastry flour”, she said, “whole wheat pastry flour from Bob’s” ( Bob’s Red Mill hearty endorsement).
After dinner and a ton of praying together, it was time to leave Aunt and Uncle and near the turn-off for I-5 south, good grief look at that Starbucks!
It was expansive and a gorgeous blend of new and old, and besides the Reserve Starbucks in Seattle, the finest example of, well, of a Starbucks that I have seen.
It is much larger than the photo shows and is located in a renovated Grange building from the last century.
I ordered a personal-cup, dark pour over, and while at the counter I saw this:
It promises notes of “key lime” and “honeycomb”, and is part of the passport series, summer 2019.
I am really looking forward to those tasting notes after the package is finally opened.
It’ll happen. I believe.