Speaking in Tongues

Today was the first time I've heard a person speaking in tongues, and she was speaking in tongues about me.

We were standing at eventide, knee deep in the water of the Mediterranean, surrounded by Muslim families who frequent the beach at Givat Aliyah on Fridays. The sea was wonderfully calm. her hand was touching my shoulder and at this point it was pretty obvious that she was not going to be touching any other part of me. The "tongues" sounded a bit like Portuguese. It occured to me that she earlier mentioned having visited Portugal. Hmmm.

That beach is a very spiritual place. I nevertheless left it feeling rather secular. When, mid-tongues, she suddenly reverted to English, asking God to speak to me more clearly, I felt as though both God and I were being reprimanded: me for being and atheist, him for having made me that way. When she told me that her mind's eye sees an image of me as a peeled, boiled egg, I felt like a peeled, boiled egg, which is a peculiar way to feel.

Today was the first time anyone ever described me as an egg of any sort. All in all it was a sweet experience. She was being kind and generous with me. I guess each one of us has different gifts to give. Mine would be to say the amen at the right spot and a nice thank you as we head back to the parking lot.