One time, when I was younger I was shopping with my parents at a plumbing store. Suddenly I had the urge to go to the restroom. Instead of interrupting my parents conversation, I decided to try at one of the many toilets on display. My mom LOVES to retell that story.
I do not have a theology degree. I have a degree and many years in the mine field of ministry. I love Jesus and want others to love him too.
I’m VERY hospitable. One time in college, I was neighbor to a prince from Saudi Arabia who was also a college student. Fassil hesitantly invited me to dinner one evening (it smelled so good). Much to my dismay I was seated with my friends on the floor and rice and chicken was served on newspapers. My friends were eating only with their hands. After months of being their neighbors I realized that they didn’t have any utensils! I hurried back to my apartment for paper plates and silverware. Fassil was so sweet he tried for a minute or two to accept my hospitality but then explained to me that they don’t eat with utensils. My heart was forever opened in that moment.
My parish has a large Latino population (45%). I know very little Spanish. But once in a while I’ll use a Spanish word or two. For years I had been telling students to siete in Spanish. It worked because they would always sit politely. It worked until last year when I was teaching middle school group and I said, siete. One of the girls looked and me and said, “why did you say 7?” I was all big chested and said, “I said sit down.” That sweet group of Latino girls had a nice little chuckle. I can now say, “Sientete” like a boss!
I was extremely extroverted in high school. My classmates sometimes rehash stories and tell me things I did. I always question them. Is there high school amnesia because I’m pretty sure that they have the wrong person? As I’ve gotten older (ahem, matured) I’ve become more introverted. I felt very relieved to learn this past year that there are lots of introvert/extroverts. I love being around people until I’m peopled out.
I’m a journal starter but not finisher. I can’t tell you how many journals I’ve started and not finished. I have quite the collection dating back a long time ago. Sometimes they are a hoot to go back to read. Others are pretty tough and bring back some deep emotions. For whatever reason I can’t go back and write in an unfinished journal. I always buy a new one in hopes of filling up the pages.
In 2003, I attended a Cursillo Retreat Weekend. I was a young professional at the time working in an affluent community. I was invited to the retreat by the leaders of my Lenten Bible Study group. During the retreat I had a lot of internal dialogue in my soul and I was looking for a true connection to Christ in the Eucharist. I had decided that if I didn’t find it in the Eucharist then I would start checking out other faith based churches to see if I could find something better suited to me. At Mass on the Saturday of the retreat after having been to the Sacrament of Reconciliation prior, I knelt down before communion and prayed that Jesus would reveal himself to me. After consuming Christ, I went back to my seat and knelt down. I had the most powerful feeling of goose bumps that I’ve EVER experienced. However, when I touched my arms their were no bumps. It was Christ presence inside and around me. I now call these Faith Bumps. Hence, the title of this blog.
faithbumps 