Sunday, June 04, 2006

THPeakiNgh Ength Tugnnnnth

It was late when the fire flew in...a number of upsetting things which had occurred during the day combined with our small make-shift family's shared and unshared stresses, and suddenly I found myself mediating a late night "let's clear the air" session.

It was good. It needed to happen. Our house guests needed to understand some of our frailties, and I think we needed to reassure them that we were able to deal with their's too. We're all under stress, and it was made worse by some last minute church service changes that sort of set off the "discussion."

I walked in midway through since I was looking for any cure possible for the raging canker sore that has appeared on the side of my tongue. Amy was crying, Katrina was close to tears, Simon was looking forlorn and I...I was lisping. I was trying every cure for canker sores I could find, including sticking a small wad of ginseng tea (brought to us by Erin many months ago from China) between my cheek and gum like chewin' tabacky. My tongue felt like it had swollen to the size of a wino's well-worn liver and I was tearing up from the intense pain of the stuff they sell to relieve such sores called "Zilactin-B." It's this smelly, thin, tar-like goo which coats the affected area and eventually relieves the pain. Unfortunately, the Dr. Mengele-wannabe who developed Zilactin-B apparently believes that the way to make people think it works is to induce so much searing pain when they apply it, that when that torturous, seemingly endless period of agony comes to an end you praise God and declare Zilactin a miracle. It's sort of the same premise as banging your head with a hammer to make you forget your broken toe. hurts like the dickens when you apply it and I had just applied some when I walked` into our little family stress eruption.

What started it all...what was said and done...none of that really matters. Besides I'm not really sure I know. What matters is that once I managed to get the message across of, "Okeyyyythgmp! Leaats evveeyr bodyth teurtnth itth down uhhhhhth nawtthch" (let's everybody turn it down a notch) and everyone stopped giggling, we all sat down to a good discussion of our fears, insecurities, worries, and even occasionally our hopes.

Today is Pentecost Sunday. In our church, it's associated with the events laid out in Acts 2 as the disciples received an outpouring of the Holy Spirit.

When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them

Last night - actually early this morning - after our conversation with Simon and Katrina ended with us holding each other and praying together, I lay in bed and Amy started to drift off to sleep...I couldn't help but smile.

For the moment, I don't speak in tongues, but the fact anyone could understand a word I said during our discussion and prayer with my tongue exacting such misery upon me comes pretty darn close to a miracle in my book.