While fully in the trenches of healing crises, there isn’t a whole lot of psychic space for terror to lodge. The tasks of diagnosing and triage take center stage.
But now, now that Jameson is home and convalescing the awareness of vulnerability is immense.
Who knows where he picked up the virus that is taking his body hostage? Who knows what sort of calumny lingers for us each? Who knows?
A gifted healer friend offered to come over last night to offer healing for Jameson. He agreed that it would be good. Unable to be there, I asked her afterward how she experienced Jameson.
She said this: “He is a boy/man going through his first health crisis. (He is) learning to take it seriously and appreciating the support of family, faith and friends.”
What a prayer, those words.
We are, each one of us, experiencing the incredible vulnerability of living in bodies that sometimes falter. We sometimes take that seriously. If we are wise, we live gratitude for the support of family, faith and friends.
This gift of life is so very fragile.
God grant us wisdom, grace, and reverence for the living of these days.
I was on retreat with 30 amazing women and we shared many things – pestilence being one of them.
It’s been amazing to hear of those from the retreat who have been felled and the varying diagnoses given. As for me, I finally got myself to a doctor this afternoon when my teeth started to ache but good. Bacterial sinus infection. Drugs. Work tomorrow if no fever. I checked; I won’t be contagious if there is no fever.
Here is what I have experienced:
I like my brain. I like it best when it works.
My husband is a dear minster to my sad self. He has been kind and helpful and patient and this is huge gift. I think we will grow old together tenderly well.
Catching up on email is a good thing. Words with Friends is no fun when most of the world works. My dog likes my company. Back to back episodes of “Sex in the City” is a great antidote to misery.
Books require my brain. See above.
The world goes along just fine without me. I have cancelled meetings with gracious people who are audibly relieved that I will keep my pestilence to myself.
From where I sit, grace is real. Spring is rioting outside and tomorrow I may find my brain and be back at it. But in the meantime, I think I’ll celebrate the view from here.