I went to the hospital today to spend a little time with a couple before she had a c-section. Another friend was also (also a pastor), so while he was talking about serious things, I was taking pictures. My usual meaningful pictures of coffee cups–and surgical masks. S was watching and laughing and saying, “Do you see what he’s doing? What is he doing?”
During the time I was ‘playing’, she was not thinking about the surgery she was facing, the pain, the shot, the new daughter, the future. She was laughing at this peculiar bedside manner.
I do my best to have a reasonable sense of decorum. However, I try to have a reasonable sense of reasonable as well. Life is huge. Life is best held loosely, leaving it in the hands of the One who made it. And laughter and tears and hugs and calmness and stories and hand-holding are all things that I read about Jesus doing. And so, when I show up at the hospital, I try to remember to not be so full of myself that He doesn’t get to work through me, bringing peace and bringing hope and bringing comfort and bringing honesty.
That’s what I try to do. And that’s pretty much what a jester is about.
And sometimes, when I get out of the way enough, I’m pretty sure that Jesus shows up.
Or maybe He was there the whole time.