2nd Ostrov II

The other day as I was driving back home alone from returning the movie "You Can Count On Me" (which I would not have enjoyed had the kids been present, watching the movie I mean) to the Library, I chose the scenic route through the rural hills surrounding our house. It was unusually easy for me to pray some of our Orthodox prayers and the thought occurred to me to ask to be caught up in a heavenly experience (Father Stephen has shared the Orthodox perspective on that lately). Two answers came back. One as a semi came into view - You'd have to be hit by this truck to really get rid of your distractions, and it's not time for that yet as the kids need you. I've had a few miraculous collision avoidances that make me think my kids need me instead of growing up like the brother and sister did in the above movie which starts with their parents getting killed by an oncoming semi. One was when I was on my way to work early one rainy morning. I was in the fast lane of the interstate when I saw an oncoming van cross the median bearing down on me in my lane. The driver had a resigned look on his face. Before I could look over my shoulder to see if I could escape the inevitable, I saw an arm with a white sleeve that drooped at the wrist come over from the passenger seat and grab the steering wheel, pulling the van back on the median. I believe it was an angel.

Back to why I wasn't caught up in the third heaven. The second answer was that I am not pure enough yet. (Don't read further if you want Ostrov to be a surprise) Father Anatoly spent 30 years shoveling coal in repentance. That is what we have to do. My coal pile is cleaning toilets. If a toilet can get clean, maybe my heart can too. But it is in a habitually clean toilet that cleanliness is found. We are our habits and it takes a really long time to have a consistently good and artistically done habit. I'm still too impulsive in my communion with God. I may have nice peak times of prayer, but they are too few and far between. Lord have mercy on me, a sinner, now and ever and unto ages of ages, amen.

Oh, and the other thing that happened on that drive home from the Library. As I got close to home I was going up a hill that was significantly high enough to block the view on the other side of it so that it seemed that my next stop was the beautifully blue, cloud studded sky, I was thinking how nice that would be, when instead of hitting the sky as I reached the peak, there was more road. Endless it seems.