I've been delivered more than once from “all my terrors” and
saved from more “all my troubles” than I care to count so that this fifty-sixth
anniversary of the end of my mother’s pregnancy is a cause for proclaiming the
greatness of Lord, or more to the point, the incredible mercy and grace that
has encamped around me all these years through no effort of my own. Indeed, maybe
my parents are more thankful this day than I am for however it happened my life
was spared because on more than one occasion they called to God in their affliction
and God saved them from all the trouble Phillip caused. The really good news of
the day is that I’m not very good at math or memory and so I’ve been thinking that
this is the fifty-seventh anniversary of my birth but since I was born in 1956 and
not 55 I’m suddenly a year younger than I thought I was. Woo-hoo! So I’m going to
celebrate the gift of my mother’s labor (and my father’s time in the waiting room
– it was 1956 after all) by making a slow roasted pork with chilies and oranges
served over cilantro lime rice along with Olatha sweet corn roasted in the husk
and jalapeno honey corn bread. I’ll be eating with our homeless friends who
come to Calvary’s Room in the Inn to find relief from the heat and be
delivered, if only for one night, from all their troubles. I can’t think of a
better way to celebrate the gift my parents gave me for even if my mom did most
of the work that day the person I am took more than a moment of blood, sweat and
tears and the lessons of loving God and caring for others and contending for
the poor were the lessons that I learned from parents who believe God gifts us
to be a gift to others.
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