On a sunny June morning, I spent 45 minutes sitting in the rehab center parking lot taking care of the ever-present medical to-dos as Chuck was inside attending his PT appointment.  I completed one set of paperwork for the appointment we were going to immediately after that one and thought,

“Ok, today’s done.  What’s next that needs to be done for tomorrow’s appointments?”

I opened my phone to check the calendar and saw my meditation reminder. I decided to open the meditation app that I use before opening the calendar, and, as I did so, thought about what my pastor said yesterday when he visited us. We had been talking about meditations and he noted that if you take time for God, He shows up.

I haven’t been hearing from God much lately.  Too angry or too tired to be able to hear Him, maybe?

But I decided to stop and listen to a meditation, not expecting God to show up but just to take a break.

As I listened to the 9-minute meditation, I watched a large van pull into the handicap parking spots in front of me and saw a woman help a man get out of the van.  Although saying I “saw a woman help a man get out of the van” is way too simplistic for what they had to do. 

The woman got out of the driver’s side, walked around to the passenger side, and opened double side doors.  The man was in a motorized chair and on a lift with a safety belt across the front so he wouldn’t fall out.  She pushed buttons and mechanically brought him down on the lift.  He used the joystick to move forward off the lift with one hand and, with the other hand, he tried to get a mask on, all while the woman pushed buttons to fold up the lift and close the doors. Then she helped him adjust the mask because, really, it’s hard to get it right with only one working hand.

And I thought about how fortunate we are.  I pulled up to the building and Chuck got out and walked himself in to his appointment.  I drove away and parked to wait for him to walk back when he was done.

Then I sensed Jesus sitting in the passenger seat next to me.  Also listening to the meditation.

Also seeing bodies destroyed.  And it dawned on me.  Maybe the reason I haven’t been hearing Him is that He hasn’t been talking.

Maybe He’s mourning too.

Sitting, quiet and still, saddened by the condition of the children He cherishes.

“You are Mine. …you are precious in My sight and honored, and I love you…”

Isaiah 43:1, 4
Meditating in the front seat with Jesus in the passenger seat