The lilac bush intoxicated us with her heavy blooms. The world seemed perfect as was the time to share my inner wrestlings with my Gramma. We were both on our backs staring up at the clouds looking for familiar shapes. There’s a little hill next to the lilac bush that was perfect for such moments.
“Gramma? Can a heart burst?”
“Gramma, I’m afraid my heart is going to burst sometimes. Sometimes it’s too full with love. And sometimes it’s too full with sadness.”
“Mmm…” She reached out and squeezed my hand. “So, what are you going to do with that?”
She often asked that sort of question.
“I think I’m gonna to be a minister.”
I said it not quite convinced, as the only ministers I knew were male and Christian and I wasn’t either. They had The Answer and I knew there were many. They saved people from their pulpit. I felt called to heal with actions and love just in the regular places of my life. … “I think I’m gonna be a minister.”
“What makes you think you aren’t a minister now?”
The sound of the gulls overhead were drown out by the paradigm shift crashing in my skull. The deep, deep breath of spring air I took in cut through the lilac drunkenness and the colors all around us intensified exponentially.
A minister was born.
Religious Education happens when we are witnessed deeply, and when our safe people believe in us as our own beliefs are taking form.