Could / Can Jesus Be Surprised?

Once again I stand, rather, sit amazed at a new thought. Jesus was as humanly touched as all of those he healed.

Was Jesus as effected as those healed? Did he always know that healing was ahead? I was always taught that as an omnipotent being, he did. Even when He whirled around asking, "Who touched me?"

(This is another topic which has filled commentaries and thesis's I have not read, you can if you want.)

His power to heal was divine, not human. So his experience and that of the woman was not the same. Nor could it be. Well that makes sense. Until they looked at each other and knew the result, not of the healing but the result....I think they both had the same emotions. Happiness that the yuckiness was over and joy that salvation was in place.

Now that I need to clearly explain that to myself, I find myself going...uh?

Sure, mercy and immense love where there, even empathy played a role; without that, why bother. But I think I am talking about wonder, amazement, happiness--real joy, and faith both in human beings and in His father.

(off topic, sortta) Did Jesus, even though God is His Father, ever get a faith shot? Needed or not?

Did my Jesus, as a human on this earth, experience every single emotion along with us plus divine and whatever emotions go with that?

What do you think?

I'm stumped, I gotta ask Him.


~~~~~
[If you haven't read The Five People You Meet In Heaven or you haven't interacted with some random person just noticing that they are a child of God--do it. I keep trying to do all these great Jesus acts in other peoples lives and before I get a chance, they have effected me. Past blogs: the lady with the fan, Primo across the street, the teens from 24/7, the deli, hubbie's waitress, the student, the Mother's day Spiritual daughters and more are the audio of Jesus in my life...] 

Oxygen and Good Shoes

We took the A train to the S shuttle, walked at least 100 miles under ground and stomped up, oh... 20 flights of stairs, then saw the sunshine...started walking again, outside on the sunny side of the amazing city streets.

Next?

Okay, in order to visit a fabulous bookstore we then walked to the 6 Train station, riding to Brooklyn Bridge, then back uptown to Spring Street and yes, climbed some more stairs...it was a great bookstore.

Time to go home!

Simple, just retrace our steps, grab the 6 Train at Spring Street to Union Square/14th Street. We did just that and then walked way downstairs and got on the L Shuttle and rode west to the Eighth Avenue station. There we transferred to the A Train -- during rush hour. We did let one train pass as a few shorter women fell out, gasping for air--really--one almost fell at my feet coughing and sputtering before recovering and dashing away for her next train.



Let me explain. When seated on a subway train, oxygen is fine, air flows freely around mid-thigh level in a mass of humanity. That is unless it is mid-winter and everyone is dressed in five layers including boots, scarves, hoodies and thermals. What no real New Yorker will tell you, (but of course I will because I'm a bit of a sneak) is that everyone carries a 30 minute air supply tank strapped to one arm. That is the true origin of the term "strap hanger." (30 minutes will not cover the normal hour ride for a 4 mile trip, but one expects that the doors will open periodically allowing fresh air to waft in.)

It has never been proven however it has been suggested that the Delta airline personnel who developed the in-flight personal overhead oxygen emergency supply system was a long time strap hanger from Queens.

So it is fairly simple to spot newbies; they are the ones gasping for air as they fall out of subway cars. If they are short and standing they literally cannot breath when the cars are packed. There is no air at that level. If they are sitting, they have a chance. But the likelihood of available sitting in rush hour is very unlikely.

A general rule of thumb is to remember your oxygen comes in three levels. Level one (fine and you are sitting so an asthma attack is satisfactory) level two (breathable unless you are under five feet and without protective shoulder padding) and level three (best, except that heat rises but who cares, you are getting off at the next station).

And that is our New York Minute for the day.

Back to me!

Ah, riding the Subway from 14th Street to 207 Street standing face-to-face with humanity after a long day.  Everyone is thinking about how wonderful a refreshing shower will be when they get home.

That very thought is what gets me through the next three flight of stairs and up to my entry way. My shower awaits. And then it hits me. To shower, I have to stand. Forget it.

Mother's Day Alert.

Thank you all daughters out there who are born of other women but are also daughters to those that love you.

Last Mom's Day weekend was special because of all of my lovely spiritual daughters, devoted friends, loved ones and nieces circled me with the honor due a mother. Now that I know the true meaning of flabbergast.

I freely admit it was drudgery every Mother's Day at church to listen to compliments lauded upon mothers and grandmothers, so justly deserved by all means--I piled them on as well! But the sermons in church about did me in until I stopped going to church on Mother's Days, I simply couldn't take it when they asked the grandmothers to stand. 

It was saluting the grandmoms that did it. Over the years I had resoved the motherhood thing and how it related to my womanhood, sisterhood, Christianity and life in general. But the idea of never being a grandmother was something I simply hadn't puzzled through. And those annual on those Sundays once a year in May did not help.

But this year it did not matter. On Mother's Day Weekend, young women came to me, thanking me for being me for them. What? How? Each of them had mothers to exonerate, honor, revere. I had  planned to focus on my mom and let the day follow its course.

No, these particular young women determined to honor me on Mother's Day Weekend. In order to carry off their plans, the ring leader had to make sure I'd be around so the "cat-was-out-of-the-bag". Thus I had a week of unbelief regarding this "setup". Then truly they picked me up and off we went to bunch, gifts, readings, laughs, honors, tea and prayer.

They made it clear that to them I was their NYC mom. They adopted me. Not replacing their moms, but announcing me to be the mom God brought them. Amazing, me a mom at 60! And an oxtimom at that!

So like Sarah at an old age, God blessed her. And now my quiver is full with 8 young women from that Saturday.

Rejoice my daughters, rejoice for God will bless you as He has blessed me. You have honored me above yourselves.

3 Snippets

He asked me to teach him about God's will for his life. 

It was somewhat like being kicked in the stomach by a Mac truck. With all that stuff God said about false teaching--this really scares me.

But then again, I don't have to be scared. I'm not doing the teaching. Phew, what a relief. And if I really think hard about, the will of God is pretty easy...He wants everybody to be saved.

His will in a nutshell. Go tell somebody else this amazing news.

So what do I tell this guy? Nothing I guess, looks like he already knows.

I'll just love on him, pray for him and just be there.

What he saw in me in the first place caused him to ask the question. God'll do the talking.

Dear readers, please pray for me, most of the time I get in the way.


Nothing to do with spiritual stuff...um

Apartment meeting; about 13 did not show up. Four of us did and began to take apart a letter we had been working on for months. It wasn't five minutes before we were looking to each other, seeking one or another to take the lead in this failing endeavor. Then the circling began, round and round we went, charging villains not present of dastardly but deserved behaviors.

It was all for not. The meeting adjourned. Nothing of worth happened. My husband and I quarreled after it was over sure that the other did not take the high road.

Was it a waste of time?

A bitter individual, a Tarrah card reader, a befuddle housewife and well meaning but ineffective male locked horns over a dead cause unwilling to let go.

When is it time to give in or stand up and be counted?

Its been over a week and I've heard nothing...um


Dear readers, please pray for me, most of the time I get in the way.


And this is church folks--

True, last week on 181st in Washington Heights while on patrol...

She was a waitress, tired probably, lonely and with more shift to come.With a sigh and exclaiming to no one in a whispered voice, "I'm useless."

He heard her, stood up and said, "you are not useless." He hugged her. After a brief shock, she hugged back.

He went back on patrol and assumed that she finished her shift.