Paradigms and Pairs of Dimes.

I went out of town this weekend from college town to Franklin, Tennessee.
My friend brought me along on her journey for inner healing.
In the midst of it I would find my own kind of inner healing,
like waking up from a heavy sleep or remembering to breathe.

Friday was the long drive and the confession.
Mother has control issues, like mothers do.
So I confessed, on the way to Franklin, where I was headed and why I could not come to see my thirty year old brother perform as Jesus.
She said she was upset and that she had to go, promptly hanging up.
Normally I would call her again and again until she picked up the phone and resolved the tension between us.
I did not call, for the first time I felt at peace about my decision to go, but to delay my telling her.
I left it alone for the evening, curious and anxious to talk to her, yet having an unusual peace about the whole thing.
We got there and the woman we were staying with, mother to a friend of ours in college town, welcomed us with offerings of groceries and each our own guest bedroom. We talked with her for some time before going to bed. She is a beautiful woman, whose spirit makes her exterior glow bright and beautiful. She shines, and it makes you want to listen to what she has to say. It makes you feel safe and loved.
We went to bed realizing how fortunate we were that this woman had accepted us into her home.
Also realizing that this bed and breakfast style loving kindness coming to us for free was a miracle and a blessing gladly accepted over paying for a two star motel in a sketchy part of Franklin.
Saturday was inner healing day. We woke up early that morning and went to a funny little building with creative aesthetics, and a small bridge with a little babbling brook running beneath it. It was comforting to be there. And we waited.
We waited for a while until we weren't waiting anymore. I can never explain what happened there, but there was inner healing. It was beautiful. There were walls that came down and weights that came off. It was freedom.

Then we went to a place where my friend used to intern. It just so happened that they were having a conference for the staff, and since she was once an intern (and since I was tagging along) we were invited to come. It was an awesome experience. The afternoon and evening sessions were both phenomenal. Between the two sessions I met a woman named Kay, in charge of finances for the organization. I poured my heart out to her about my anxieties with my mother, and asked her advice as to whether I should call and tell her I was thinking about stopping in on the way back on Sunday afternoon. She said her mother's heart thought yes, but that she would pray for me, if I liked. She came from around her desk and held me and prayed for me. I felt a peace and one of those gut instincts, jetting up from the seat after her prayer and calling my mother. Everything was fine, and I would get to see my brother perform as Jesus afterall.

The whole group immediately took me in as family, every beautiful quirky loving soul... and I gladly accepted their casual adoption. I felt like I had always known them. I got the opportunity to talk with many of them, each of them praying for me and encouraging me with a sort of knowing in their eyes and a smile on their lips. People are funny, especially when they love God and they know that He talks to them, and that they can talk back. There's this understanding of things that were, things that are, and things that are to come. They laugh about it because God shares glimpses of His best secrets for your life with them, but they won't tell you... because that's like messing with the future. Some things you just don't need to know until they happen.

Oh I laughed so much while I was there. I felt free to come and go without worry or concern.
My friend felt the same way I did, probably moreso than I. She was home, she said. She'd been looking forward to the idea of coming back to Franklin since the week before when we realized we were coming. She laughed and smiled probably more than I'd seen her laugh or smile since I've known her.

Sunday was family time. Family time in the sense that I got to go to this church I'd heard so much about and hang around these amazing loving people I'd heard so much about, recognizing some familiar faces from the conference the day before. These people were so good to be around! I just loved talking to them and with them an enjoyed just being around them. I felt priveleged to have met them. I felt like I got to see the very best of everything my friend had enjoyed while she lived there, and it seemed as though she were very pleased with the idea of that. The youth pastor and a group of college-aged people invited us to lunch before we left, and we accepted the invite. I actually got to re-meet a person who I had met at college town my first year, second semester. The world is so small, isn't it. So very, very small.

After that we said our goodbyes and headed for hometown. Family embraced my friend and I with open arms, and was so excited that we were getting to come to the play. Seeing my brother as Jesus made me realize how very young of a man Jesus was when He died. It also made me realize that these men were a very young age to be turning their worlds upside down. It made me smile, and it also made me sad. It made me sad because I did not like the thought of Jesus dying at the very young age my brother is now, with his young muscles and his young bones and his fresh face, alive with the passion of God and a love for people. It made me smile because many people will tell you there's an age limit on being a world changer, being a people lover. It's at least forty, according to the invisible rulebook of traditions in the church. Jesus was changing the world years before he died. He was in his twenties and confounding the elders and the religious leaders. Seeing my brother get whipped and hang on a cross was strange. In art history on Monday I saw my brother instead of Jesus in the religious seventeenth century paintings. I wonder what my brother thinks about Jesus now. I wonder if Jesus talked to him about it... if my brother had dreams about Jesus or anything like that.

I'm thinking about taking off for Good Friday, because I have to work on Easter morning in the nursery for church. I haven't decided what I will do yet if I do take off. Perhaps it can be my sabbath, since Sunday is never really my day of rest.

So much happened this weekend that I can't really explain, other than I needed to be there. I needed to be away from college town and hometown for a while. I needed to meet new people, and not think about work or responsibilities. I needed to just be free. It was a wonderful vacation, to say the least.