Get Up!

Oh, what the heck. I am just going to write what is needling its way to the front of my brain. I have tried like the dickens to smoosh it down, but it keeps easing its way up--and in. It's Easter. I could say so much---like all of us. I am going to take another route around. For people who know me a little bit, you think I am always funny---never serious. For those who know me well, you know that I am serious--almost to a fault. Want to see a person in earnest? Look for a person in jest. They are one and the same most often. All of my life I have had a hard time reconciling that God could love me and love my outrageous sense of humor; it seems like I have always been so "irreverent." Actually, let me, for the record, say that I believe all things are sacred. So, irreverent yes? Sacred? Yes again. But, that doesn't mean I'm not going to also see the complete paradox, irony, and incongruities that often just sit right on top of one another and stare me in the face. Life makes me cry----and laugh. And joke. And say things I shouldn't.
So, it's Easter and here's my religious story to go with all your Easter eggs.
Last year Taylor had another MRI at the hospital. Since he has to stay in that iron-lung looking cave machine for so long, they have to do an MRI "with sedation." All that means is that they drug him to make him woozy. Taylor walks and runs well. His legs work great. Let me just lay that down as background information. So anyway, after the MRI, he was put in a wheelchair and I wheeled him out to the patient pick up circle. He was drugged and dazed (even more than usual.) Leaving him in the safety of his wheelchair, I went to bring the car around. In the meantime, a well-meaning, earnest man had struck up a conversation with Taylor. As I approached, I could hear the man saying, "Good. Good. Excellent. Praise God! That is just great!!"
Sensing the quizzical look on my face, the gentlemen allowed that he and Taylor had been talking about Jesus.
Taylor...talking? About....anything much? But about Jesus? Hmmmm. I would like to have heard that. I love it when Taylor talks---Ever.
Come to find out the man's joyous rapture was that when he asked Taylor if he was saved, Taylor had told him that he was. (I would have loved to have heard that conversation too. Taylor will answer yes if you ask him if he's a citizen of the Czech Republic.)
The man went on to tell me how, when he saw Taylor, this special retarded person of God, confined to his wheelchair, he knew that he needed to make sure that Taylor's soul was saved. So he began his witness. He was on soul patrol. Evidently, the "witnesser" was relieved beyond measure that this handicapped, paraplegic had already found Jesus. Had he learned that Taylor had not already been saved, let me tell you that this man would have had his work cut out for him. Can I just remind you that Taylor thinks Bambi talks?---Just saying.
The gentleman shook my hand noting,"mission accomplished." He did some praise stuff. He stood as he watched me load Taylor into what he assumed was our specially outfitted vehicle.
Well, my friends,I just couldn't stand it. The worst and the best parts of me showed up and took over. Without batting an eye, and in my most sincere and commanding voice, I said,
"Taylor, get up and walk to the car."
Taylor, got up out of his wheelchair and walked to the car---like he had been doing for years.
You should have heard the man screaming. Another miracle.
I couldn't help it. Of all the ways he could have interacted with Taylor, sharing the four spiritual laws looked like his best plan? Another hmmmmm.
Taylor's soul?
Taylor's soul is pure and radiant.
It's Easter.
I am thankful that Taylor can walk.
I am thankful that Taylor has a heart full of love.
That's no joke. Sacred stuff.
All of this--sacred. And, it's still ok to laugh.
BTW, he is not from the Czech Republic, even if he answers, "Yes" when asked.
Alleluia on all counts.