I am a look-to-the-future person.
I am not one to look back and even have to work at staying in the present. So when I was going through the Soul Care Institute and there was encouragement to do a life audit, I balked.
This meant going back and taking my life in 5 year increments from the very beginning to see what stood out to me. Where did I feel God’s presence or God’s absence? Who were the key players and how was I being formed?
This was work for me, but I did it.
I’m so glad I did. I made many discoveries.
One in particular one stood out to me.
He was my Uncle Ivan. A man with a large wart on the side of his nose, bent and twisted from muscular dystrophy, and a scratchy gravel voice. He also had the kindest eyes that were full of mischief and a wonderful capacity for dreaming up stories that made my little girl heart race with delight!
I liked church for one reason.
After I did my duty - sitting in the rock hard pew (we had no cushions) for the obligatory hour and a half of endless-upfront-talking (well, when I didn’t escape to use the outhouse, that is) (and yes, we had no plumbing in the church until I was in my early teens). Anyway…
I could not wait for church to end because the reason I loved going to church was the after-church part!
I would run as fast as I could out to where my Uncle Ivan’s car was parked right in front. It was our “handicapped parking”.
He was always there waiting for me. I’d jump in the passenger's seat beside him, my brown eyes looking up expectantly.
We both loved horses. Though his atrophied body could no longer ride, he would describe the beauty of that animal and the thrill of a ride in a way that a fitter person could never have done.
He was magical to me.
“Imagine”, he’d say. And I would.
Somedays, our car talks were of a more somber nature and the horses would run away for awhile. He’d ask me about my feelings and the things happening in my life. He’d ask me if I had talked to Jesus about my young troubles.
And he would sing over me. He’d sing in his scratchy soothing voice,
“Jesus, Jesus loves Kaylene, yes he does, yes he does…
And he wants Kaylene to love him too.”
He would help me notice that Jesus was with me, that I was seen, that I was loved. When I was too welled-up inside and my feelings would start coming out my eyes, he would lead in silence in a way that it felt ok to cry.
Looking back on this tender age of seven, eight, and nine, I now know that I was in the presence of my first spiritual director.
As I did this exercise in the Soul Care Institute I realized that my small wild self who loved to run with horses had been surrounded by God incarnate from the beginning. I knew that God wanted to walk and talk with me and cared deeply about my dreams.
I learned that one of my first glimpses of God was through the eyes of a man with a bent back who loved horses and met me outside of church.