This morning as I scrambled eggs at the stove, the Glediator raced into the kitchen in a flying hurry for work. He put his arms around me as he offered up a hasty prayer, while I stirred the eggs with my eyes closed.
"You're going to hell for stirring the eggs during the prayer," he joked afterward. (If I am going to hell for anything, it won't be for stirring the eggs during the prayer.)
"Well, you're going to hell for always being in such a mad hurry for work every morning," I shot back.
I hope the Glediator and I do not go to hell. But I think we have some work to do.
My thoughts wander back a few months to the cathedral in Frankfurt, Germany. I had a five hour delay at the airport during some travels and I ventured out into the city with some friends. Having lived in Spain, I have seen many cathedrals, and every one fills my whole being with reverence and wonder. As I quietly marveled over paintings, tombs and statues, I peered into a small side chapel and saw two boys, about twelve years of age, kneeling in prayer over an altar. With my breath stolen, I wept at the sight, grateful that there is still faith in the hearts of the children in this world.
I doubt I would have been so moved had the boys been scrambling eggs over the altar. I am very glad that there is 24 hour service in heaven and that I can pray wherever and whenever I need to, but I am resolving to be more thoughtful in the way I approach my Maker.