Still Working
Hello everyone,
I’ve had an interesting couple of days. I got a little bogged down with two of the essays for the book, but I’m done with “Let Him Be Called Real Live Preacher,” the humorous one, and almost done with “Just To Sit and Cry and Not be Bothered.” Maybe two hours left on that one. Close.
I tried writing at the local doughnut shop. No good. Sometimes I like a bustling noise in the background, but I don’t think the doughnut shop works well for me.
On a different note, I wore a clerical collar for the first time. I donned my blue jean clerical shirt, which I had never worn, and went to visit Evangelina in the hospital. Her surgery went well, and thank you all for your prayers. There's a little bit about that shirt in the comments from Monday.
People look at you funny when you're wearing a priestly shirt. I walked into a convenience store and a woman who worked there gasped, “Oh my Gawd, I was just telling him that I need a special rosary prayer for these damn coffee machines. They’re broken as usual.”
We looked at each other a moment. Then she continued.
“And then YOU came in. Oh my GAWD!”
Yeah, I felt VERY much at ease as I backed out of there clutching my little white doughnuts and newspaper.
I’ll tell you another thing. You mind your Ps and Qs when you're wearing a clerical collar. You are VERY aware that you represent Christ everywhere you go. A stunning woman walked by the front of the hospital. Normally I would have turned my head to look, but I didn’t dare.
So anyway, if I can get my sermon and bible study lesson finished early tomorrow, I’m going to start working on something that I’ve been dreading. A family that sometimes attends our church lost a 21-week-old baby last year. This was the second premature baby they have lost. I went to the hospital and stood with them while he died. It was an absolutely horrific event. The grief was so fresh and raw it scorched everything in the room. In the middle of the grief came the first gentle beginnings of grace and healing. That night I poured my guts into my keyboard, but I haven't gone back to read what I wrote since then. I just haven't wanted to.
With their permission and with their names changed, I’m going to see if whatever is there will allow itself to be shaped into an essay for the book. I really don’t know what will happen. You can't rush this kind of writing. I might not be ready. I'll know I'm not ready if I can't find a way to mold raw emotion into something ordered.
I’ll give it one day’s work and see what comes of it.
rlp
7:54:32 PM 
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