“Thin Spaces”
was a new term to me. In a homily given
by a local pastor, he explained the Irish concept of “thin spaces” as being
that moment in time where the veil that separates heaven and earth or the
material world from the spiritual world seems rather thin. In so many words, I guess, it’s that moment
where you say, “oh. Wow. That was very
godly.” And I will admit that while I
have some experience in the spiritual journey, those moments where it seems
there are Divine fingerprints on the window seems few and far between.
“And just
whose fault is that?” one could ask. I
don’t know. While I am more than
reluctant to point my finger to the ceiling …. Because it honestly seems to me
He works overtime trying to get humanity’s attention and respect … I don’t like
the other choice I’m left with: my
fault. But I guess it is. Through lack of adequate personal reflection,
many of us lose the learning and grace-filled opportunities of which we are unknowingly
in the midst. We get lost in the daily
grind of work and home and society.
Insert here a mental snapshot of a busy city street where all sorts of
people are walking in different directions and taxi’s are beeping and children in
strollers are pointing and business people are trying not to bump into other
humans while the yammer along in self-important poses on the cell phone. This is the life we know. It’s easy to get stuck here. Until you’re not.
Something
bad happened to me a couple of years ago.
I was betrayed. And with that
betrayal, a big piece of my world became very disinteresting to me. I had to try to turn in to look at the
interior damage and try to nurture and heal, if possible. There were days when I didn’t think it was
possible. I lost a lot of motivation,
and only those closest to me may have seen a piece of the trainwreck that was
sitting inside my heart.
That’s why it was incredulous to me when a person in my closest circle asked me directly in front of everyone-that-mattered if I “had any New Year’s resolutions.” I am pretty sure the response that was hoped for was something along the lines of losing weight. Since, even in awkward situations, I prefer to not lie, I responded: “You know, I’m a very superstitious person at heart and I find that when I share my resolutions it kind of takes the steam out of them and I get nothing accomplished.” End of discussion.
My
resolutions, actually, were not itemized.
They were really a symphony of attitudes that I am trying to get to “play”
in a harmonious presentation. Lose weight? I’m not Kate on “This is Us.” I don’t have that kind of self-loathing and
complicated psychological scarring. I’m
not even as BIG as Kate is. But what I
am turning the entire ship of my life towards is far more important than what
is on the scale. I have found, by the
way, that if I turn my digital scale just two inches to the side diagonally, it
renders a score that is three pounds less.
Yeah, I like that. But indulge me
for a minute, and think of an ocean liner leaving the East Coast for, say,
Merry Old England. Do you know that if
you adjust the compass just two degrees off on this end of the journey, you won’t
get to see the Queen? And for this very
reason, I begin my journey of re-aligning my entire life with no undue
caution.
I am trying
to Listen. I want to be present to the
moment. I want to not miss the thing it
is I need to be attending to in the middle of what I THINK I’m supposed to be
doing. Chew on that for a while.
I began by
trying to put some godly order into my environment at home. And as a sincere stab at that, I tackled the
proverbial “junk drawer” in my kitchen.
That led to cleaning the Island off, and discovering that I
Imagine my
surprise when a couple of days later the very same woman called my work phone
looking to speak with someone. I asked
her, “Are you the realtor?” She said, “Yes. I am.”
I re-introduced myself and we began talking about her ministry of
looking out for people who seem to fall between life’s proverbial cracks. She dropped first names only. One of them flagged my attention. I asked her, if that wasn’t by any chance
so-and-so who was a former student of mine.
She said yes. THEN, unbelievably
it was clear why this phone call was happening.
Last year at
this time another friend was talking to me and mentioned her niece who lives a
few towns over. I asked this woman, “then
you probably know that whole pod of kids who hung out together.” She said yes, and that one particular young
woman is, how can I say this politely (I can’t): dead.
When I first heard it was like getting the wind knocked out of me. Then it became clear why another random
person had called my home phone and left me a message with no details. I never returned that call. And so I never knew there was a wake I needed
to be at. I always wondered what this
young woman died from. Here, a year
later, the realtor lady was able to tell me what no one else did: that she passed away from some sort of a
seizure relative to her other health issues.
I just needed to know that she didn’t hurt herself. Somehow that mattered to me. Now I had closure. A thin space had come and gone.
The next day
I was reviewing my adoring fans and friends on facebook. I saw an advertisement of an African American
woman standing at the water’s edge with her arms wide open as if she was
embracing heaven. She had a wide brimmed
white beach hat on. She was wearing a
beach dress. She had one of those reminder
wristbands on her left wrist. I started
to cry. Hard. This exact picture is what is in my head
when I think of my friend Denise who passed away in the summer of 2016. She was my beach friend and I looked forward
to vacationing with her and our women friends every summer for decades. Now she was gone and I have this big, giant,
cumbersome hole in my heart where one of my best friends used to be. To think that the Almighty could use an
advertisement on social media to put my mind at ease was, again, a very nice
thin space to find myself in. The very
next day, it popped up on facebook that it was her birthday. January 4.
I’m terrible at remembering birthdays and significant dates, but I
remember my people.
The third “Thin
Space” was two weeks ago at the checkout line in a grocery store. I was shopping for a senior lady and feeling
a bit at the end of my rope until I found myself in line behind a friend who
used to work with me. We had a
delightful conversation which included me naming the fact that she had been done an
injustice by the people who drove her out of a job she loved. She remarked (her Thin Space) that it so happens
that working as a companion to a disabled person had become her new full time
job and that she loved it. I was glad for her.
I turned and
looked at the man behind me for no particular reason at all and then realized I
know him and practically shouted, “Steve!
How are you?!” He said great –
and he looked healthy and well – but his face also registered that he couldn’t
remember me. I added, “You bought your
dog from me five years ago!” He beamed
and said, “do you have any puppies now?
Because we want another one!” I
advised him that, in fact, we are expecting a litter mid-February. I produced my business card and felt so happy
that his cancer was gone, and his dog was so loved by their family.
This
situation at the grocery store was not like neighbors bumping into each other
at a local grocery store. It is at least
15 miles from my house, and although I go there weekly, the time frame varies. It is almost as if the stars had to line up
for these encounters to even happen at all.
I am
grateful for the Thin Spaces. I am
grateful when I am made aware that the Divine Eye is on me, and that I am His
apple. I am grateful that this year is
starting out one million times better and more interesting than last year was
in its entirety. So I ask you, have you
been open to the Thin Spaces? Maybe that
is a good resolution for all of us?!
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