Journey Nudges

Days and weeks go by -- maybe even months -- and we sometimes feel stalled, taking a break, finding a nice mossy rock by the side of our journey's path to sit upon for a while. But then a nudge comes -- a soft poke in the side, a gentle hand on the shoulder, encouraging us to get up and start walking again.

We were nudged this weekend again. Something's stirring. Today -- Saturday -- Don is a priest again.

I spent a portion of my day yesterday in preparation mode. I went into the basement in search of a very specific bag -- a white plastic bag forgotten, shoved forlornly on a storage shelf. A bag full of rumpled, now-unused clergy shirts. I found the bag and pulled out the shirts one by one, lacking their collars, the shirts that I used to see almost every day, the shirts that I washed and (sometimes) ironed. The shirts of a priest.

Today is the day of the wedding in PA of which Don is officiating. We had a leisurely morning and had a chance to talk over breakfast. He told me of some bizarre church dreams he was having again -- some good, some not-so-good -- and I shared my own odd dream of last night, one which I thought he would find interesting. I dreamed we were having another baby, but this time he was pregnant (man, what weird sight). It didn't seem odd at all, however -- those things so rarely do in dreams -- and the time had come for the birth. We were not in a hospital, however, but in some room that resembled more of a retreat center, with huge windows all around, looking out onto a beautiful forest. The whole feeling was peaceful and there was no sound -- it was absolutely hushed. Then suddenly, simply, there was a baby. A huge baby, gigantic (that part was weird) ... and it was a boy. We named him Owen Garrett. I can't tell you how peaceful the whole scene was -- not a single sound was heard.

OK, maybe I had dessert too close to my bedtime. But Don's "punny" response to my dream was, "Well, that sure was pregnant with meaning." He went on to say that maybe there's no coincidence; it represents new life. He's officiating a wedding -- the start of a couple's life together -- and he's donning the mantle of a priest to do so, a new beginning of sorts for him. Nothing is as it was for us anymore, that's for sure. But maybe all of this is a bit of that nudging. It's time to get up and start walking again.

A few minutes ago I saw the "old" Don -- dress pants, shined shoes, sport coat, blue clergy shirt, and that gleaming white collar encircling his neck. A priest was standing in the living room. But did that priest ever leave, really? He's been battered and beaten by others but he's still here.

And now he's walking again, collar and all.