Felling a little jangled tonight. Call me Mister Bo-jangled.Some major good stuff has happened to me today, and I'm not used to getting so much accomplished in a day, let alone a week. Of course, my definition of "accomplished" may not be everyone's. This morning, I spent almost two hours over a cup of coffee completely immersed in conversation with my friend Ken, who just happend to be a Baptist minister. He's writing a review of my book, and asked me to print out a few of the chapters for him. He's read the whole book through e-mails, as have a few Mudcatters. Ken is an interesting man, belying all the stereotypes about "men of the cloth." We met at a Christian book store/coffee shop, which might conjure up more images. I didn't hear nary a "hallelujah" while we were there, and the workers and regulars work Ken over pretty well when he's there. The place is like a coffee-ized version of Cheers, where everybody knows His name... We probably spent five minutes talking about my book. The rest of the time, we just had a free-flowing conversation.
I'm not a member of Ken's church, although Ruth and I attend a service once a month, and the Gospel Messengers have sung there many times. Because I'm not a member of the church, Ken can speak completely openly to me, knowing that I can hold a confidence. That means a lot to him. He has a heavy burden on his shoulders, with sickness and exhausting demands on him and his wife, helping for of his in-laws. I don't think I know anyone who has gone through more than Ken and his wife have, this last year. And it brings up the question. Who ministers to Ministers? Who comforts comforters? who do Advisors turn to for advice? There are so many people who dedicate themselves to being there for others. Who is there for them? So I spent most of the time talking with Ken about the things he is doing in his life that he loves (he is very dedicated to getting out into the community to help others, with very little religious proselytizing.) It was a wonderful morning. Two people attuned to each other, offering encouragement and understanding. I call that an accomplishment of the highest degree.

This afternoon, I spent a lot of time on the phone with the woman who is doing the final edit on my book. We're a half hour away from being finished, and it's been a long haul, full of self-doubts. It's sinking in that the book is essentially done and ready to go off to the publisher.

Talking with Ken,I was commenting on how our perception of ourselves limits what we have the ability to do. I've written all my life, and yet have never thought of myself as a writer. I think we're all vulnerable to that. I've communicated with other Catters who don't realize how gifted they are. Sometimes, it takes someone else to reveal our own gifts to us. That's another accomplishment of the highest degree. Ken gives humorous, nourishing sermons that send you out the door, lost in reflection. Not everyone appreciates him. They're the ones who are most vocal. Like all of us, Ken has gifts he hasn't even begun to manifest.

Now I'm tired, and the day is swirling around in my head. Should that all days be like this. What is more blessed that to share time with another person, lifting each other up.

That's what can happen around a kitchen table.

Jerry