God has brought to mind a specific memory, repeatedly, that he calls to be shared.  It is the day that Jesus gave me a hug. It started weeks before the actual event…. In a time when euthanasia was being pushed in the medical field and legal arena in our country, I went to a seminar, back when I specialized with the elderly and those impacted by Alzheimer disease. In this seminar the speakers were pro ending the life of elderly patients in nursing homes. The social worker from our site also joined me and sat with me in the audience. She casually glanced over as I wrote notes and thoughts on the conversation. At the end of the presentation I stood up and countered with the risks and ethical implications, not religion based, very respectful. I was proud to have offered the counter aspect. It wasn’t easy and was not received well however I thought it to be my ethical responsibility to offer another perspective on a one sided seminar discussion. The next day at work I was called into the social workers office. I was reprimanded for speaking publicly at the conference in opposition to euthanasia. I was told I was “suffering from belief system syndrome” as if I had a mental illness. The social worker convinced the administration I needed additional exposure to alternative beliefs and I was required to attend an 8 hour seminar on spirituality in the health care field. Out of all the presenters that day only one was “christian” but it focused on the power of prayer as the power positivity and belief has on healing, not the power of God to heal. The others were about other religions, meditations, and controversial beliefs and practices. Driving home that day I felt I had just left a war zone and would be expected to report back “what i had learned” All the way home I spoke with God, my faith had not been shaken, I knew what i believed, I understood and accepted others have different views, but it was still upsetting realizing that I was expected not to have an open discussion and to condone all beliefs and practices, even euthanasia, in the least by simply remaining silent and that my own professional concerns and personal ethical beliefs were not respected. This was something I did not feel I should be asked to do ethically. Morality is a much deeper level, however even on the surface of professional ethics I felt this was not appropriate. As I neared my village I was no longer talking to God I was yelling. Tears streaming down my face. (I really should not have been driving at this point.) I wasn’t yelling at God. I was not angry at God. I was just hurt and wanted God to take the pain away. He spoke in soft thoughts in my mind and I snapped back. That wasn’t good enough. I needed more. I could envision Jesus in my mind sitting in the car with me. I knew God was with me and listening and I felt his love but I yelled back still…. No! I need more. I don’t want thoughts in my mind to sooth me, I do not want visions in my mind to comfort… I want a hug. I said to Jesus directly, you are God and nothing is impossible for you. I know it is not reasonable for me to expect you to appear in the flesh and give me a hug but that is what I need. I need a hug NOW. My God who can move mountains and bring nations to their knees. My God who loves me as a daughter, I needed a hug from my father. It didn’t matter how ridiculous my request sounded. I was like an inconsolable child. I was hurt. At this point I was driving into my home village. The village was empty on a Tuesday evening with everyone at supper. Then I saw them at the little church that was only occupied a few hours a week on Sunday morning and occasionally on a Wednesday evening. There was no reason for them to be there, on the sidewalk with their car doors open, about to get in and drive away, at the exact moment as I approached…. If the car had been there without seeing them, I would not have stopped, and a moment later they would have been on their way home, far outside of the village…. but there they were, on the sidewalk. I pulled over to the side of the road and literally jumped out of my car, I didn’t even have time to think about it. It was automatic. I think, by the looks on their faces I scared the dickens out of them with tears on my cheeks and stuttering as I approached them. I don’t even remember what I said but I told them I was there for hug and I got one. They offered to speak with me, they hadn’t even eaten supper yet, I tried to decline but they insisted. They had only stopped by the church on chance, a last minute thought as they were driving home, past the village church for some quick cleaning… I don’t even remember what we talked about. What I do remember is that I asked God for a miracle of a Hug that day. That is all I wanted but everything I needed and God moved a mountain just for me…..