Pot-bellied Pigs


I was listening to the Diane Rehm Show from the offices of NPR on my way to work. Its early morning, the time of day when the traffic is light, the air crisp, and I’m considering how I can enrich my lesson plans in the span of a fifteen minute commute.  

This is an expansive time because the entire day is before me. I notice a determined sense of optimism slipping between my dreary patterns and predictive schedule. (Or maybe the coffee is finally kicking in?) 

Diane was talking about the benefits of domesticated pot-belly pigs in calming the “storms of life,” the things that beat us down, and drown us in chaos.  Apparently companionship and real presence is healing. Of course I start visualizing the neighbors walking the streets in the early evening with pot-bellied pigs named Wilbur, equipped with little blue bags, and expandable leashes. 

Would these pigs be allowed in the dog park? Do pigs bite? These are the questions that assault my mind as I sip my coffee and linger at the Hamilton light.  

I force my thoughts back to the day’s lesson plans. I’m introducing the concept of miracles today, the biblical kind, like Jesus healing the sick, turning water to wine, and calming the storms. 

How do you interest high school students in the applicability of gospel miracles? Then I remember what Diane Rehm said about companionship and the restorative power of real presence (not to mention a glass of blessed wine). I have to believe this is how Jesus calmed the “storms of life.” And I am quite certain he had an unusual affliction for Pot-bellied pigs.



I’m Living in the Gap, drop in anytime, we’ll shoot the shit. 


 

 

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