I am having my first real Saturday in a long time.

What do I mean, you ask? My first real Saturday, what is that about? It is simple folks. After a week of working out, being active, setting up and keeping appointments, running to and from this and that, making plans, contacting people, practicing piano, and taking my medicine, grooming, and eating more properly, I am tired. I needed this Saturday. I understand, just a very little bit, and again because I once did know this, what Saturday can really mean to people who work every day (and often then some). Do I deserve this? Maybe not yet, maybe more so than most.

In one sense, I did very little compared to what an average (let alone a hard working) person does in a week. I had no boss(es) rain(ing) down terror and tasks on top of my expected tasks and meetings. I was not called in to do over-time. I did not have to be anywhere for hours at a time, given snippets to snack or have lunch or coffee. And yet, compared to what I am used to doing or have been able to do at times, I have gone from almost complete inactivity to planning a mountain climbing trip, then started setting up my base camp, on Mount Everest. So, deserve Saturday? Yes and no, as I suggested.

I will be going to church today. I am rather excited! Really, I do love going to church. It is not just the homily, it is not just the people, it is not just our priests, nuns, and laity, or even just God’s presence. It is all of that and more. The time I (nearly?) died, and yet ‘remember’ from between the living and the death and back, I remember being ushered in with others (I do not remember the bright light, or at least going into it, just sort of stepping out of it). What we did there, other than mill around, introduce and meet loved ones, and, oddly, sing to communicate and rejoice, we waited. We waited for Him. And, I tell you, we would have been happy to be waiting for longer than the Earth has existed, longer than the stars have shone, because He is that much and more. Church reminds me of that, in no small amount. It is like the waiting room. It is a joy, even if my flesh and mind cannot always be pushed, shoved, yanked, or prodded to function to get there in time. My heart and parts of the rest of me are always there.

Oh, I should, then, also be able to make it to my friend’s important work. It is no small feat, helping to bring another man from outside of God’s light to inside it. Though he speaks a different tongue with God, I do think he follows my God as he understands. It is by his fruit that you will know him. He has been wonderful in this world, and I do know him.

I might or might not write about the experience. Some things are just mine. I like having a few special memories or thoughts. Meet me for coffee, I will spill the beans then, if not here. Love and blessings.