On Saturday I put myself in the hands of another.  I sat in a chair at our church carnival and had a mini massage in the midst of the chaos there.

On Wednesday I was in Urgent Care with neck muscle spasms.

I am awed by the power of angry muscles.  Most times when things are not clicking right it is possible to push past them.  There was no pushing past the gripping of my head in a vise of pain.

It was almost funny.  I had led men’s Bible study with only one spasm and figured that I could roll over the whole thing.  After class, I had time to do the thising and thating that is pastoral ministry as I waited for a funeral home to pick me up for a committal at Fort Snelling.  I was set.  I was prepared.

It didn’t matter.  As I readied myself to go with the funeral director, I was gripped by waves of pain I can’t much describe.  With tears running down my face I had to quickly explain to our Vietnamese pastor Phillip the ins and outs of leading a committal service, and explain to the compassionate director that it would be Phillip leading prayer and not me.

The ride home made me aware of just how many pot holes there are in our streets.  Every bump was registered.  Luckily my chauffeur is strong and huge of heart.

Drugs are amazing things.  Muscle relaxers are my friend.  The storm has subsided and I am left with a body aware of its own fragility and ability to feel pain and delight, both.

I’m also left with a huge well of humility.  A seemingly small thing like sitting down for a mini massage can lead to immense things that swoop in with ferocious power and take us where we do not want to go.

So it is.  Every day.  The small decisions made have implications we cannot imagine.

Today is a day of little pain and much gratitude.

I’m paying attention.

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