Pastor John Van Sloten

This morning, as I was walking through a parking lot en route to a Canadian Tire auto repair shop, I noticed a very young mom leaving her car with her infant daughter in her arms.  She was heading toward the medical clinic in the mall, and left her car running.  At first I thought that was strange but then realized that someone else was her driver.  Someone she evidently didn’t respect all that much.   I know that because as I was walking with this woman a few feet behind me she angrily said, “You’re just a piece of shit!”  When I turned around she embarrassingly said, “No, not the baby…  I’m not talking to her.”   I could sense she was referring to her driver, who I assumed was her mom.  “Glad you weren’t talking to me,” I said.  She just turned red and briskly entered the clinic doors.   

I was kind of shocked for a minute or two.  Her outburst reminded me of a time when I told my mom to F%&* off in a Canadian Tire store when I was 15 years old.  I still can’t believe I did that.   I often wish I could take it back.

A few minutes ago I got off the phone with my mother.  She’s going into minor surgery tomorrow and I knew she was feeling anxious, so I thought I’d call.  I’d already spoken to her twice this week, each time thinking I could maybe say a prayer for her, but avoided the unease of bringing it up.  This time I screwed up the courage to ask her if I could.  Her immediate response was that she was just going to ask me to do the same.   And so I prayed for and with my mom… and the words flowed in a ‘just right’ kind of way.  After I said, Amen, my mom thanked me and through tears said, “That was so beautiful John.  I feel more peaceful already.”  

Penitent prayerful words covering over a multitude of verbal sins.