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Posts Tagged ‘healing’

I got back yesterday after two glorious weeks away.  I went to the tip of the Bruce Peninsula, a small town called Tobermory. While I was there I visited places I had visited before, as a student 10 years ago.  I hiked trails, walked through town, ate in local eateries, cooked meals at the cottage where I stayed.

The first Sunday I was there I preached and celebrated at St. Edmund’s in Tobermory and then later that night I preached at St. Margaret’s at Cape Chin.  It was a remarkable experience and I enjoyed it immensely.  I walked to the lighthouse from the cottage.  It was an hour’s walk.  I hiked part of the Bruce Trail and part of the Lindsay Tract Trail.  Both challenging in their own way.

Two weeks away was just enough time to disengage from the frantic pace of parish life.  And driving home my phone started ringing.  Thankfully I have Bluetooth technology so was able to screen and answer calls hands-free.  And by the time I drove the four hours home, I felt immersed in Church life once again.

While I was away Canada elected a new Prime Minister.  The Blue Jays won their division.  The winds shifted and the temperatures were very mild.  Every day I walked in awe at the majesty of creation.  Truly God was with me, with every step I took, every place I stopped, every crisp breath I inhaled.  And it was good.

Tomorrow’s gospel is blind Bart.  He doesn’t ask Jesus to heal him, but to have mercy on him.  There is a lot to reflect on in that passage.  So much about our blindness.  About our faith, or lack thereof.

This week I’m heading to Walpole Island for an annual service of healing.  I’m looking forward to it.

Next week is our Annual All Soul’s Service.  A moving and emotional service, but also something I look forward to.

I’ve been remiss in writing lately as life has been crazy.  My plan is to journal more frequently, with  more observations of a crazy and awesome world.

Stay tuned!

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I must say that surgery is an interesting thing.  I don’t like being the centre of attention, which I know is weird, given what I do for a living.  Having the doctors, nurses, techs and whatnot ensuring I was cared for was strange.  I’m used to doing the caring, not being cared for.  My friend drove me to the city where I was having surgery, 45 minutes away.  He was allowed to wait with me before I went in and he prayed with and for me, and the doctors, nurses, techs, and everyone involved at the hospital.  I felt remarkable when he had finished.

The nurse who was preparing me for surgery heard the prayer and cried.  We told the doctor he had been prayed for and he was delighted.  The entire team did an amazing job, even the anaesthetist with no sense of humour.  I commented that the table in the operating room looked like it could be used for crucifixion and he stared blankly.  Which was okay.

I remember the lights in the operating theatre, I remember the IV in my arm.  I remember a mask going over my mouth and being told to breathe deeply.  And then I remember being asked if I was thirsty…and was I ever.  I had a sip of ginger ale and it tasted like the greatest thing ever.  I was parched for 3 days.  Gatorade and water with some tea fixed that.  I felt numb for a couple of days, other than when I stood up or sat down.  Then I cursed.

I am now 8 days since surgery and I’m feeling okay.  I still use pain meds in the day time.  I am standing for longer periods of time.  I am making progress and feeling better.  And tomorrow I go back to work.  Which I am very excited about.  I know it will knock me sideways, but at least I will have done it.  Moving back into the work world and Church land slowly is what I need to do, and am doing.

I am thankful for the surgeon and the doctors.  I am thankful for the nurses and staff who cared for me as a person, not only as a patient.  And I am especially thankful for my friends who rallied around with food, prayers, gentle hugs and care. I never realised how much I am cared for.  Now I have a better idea.  And it warms the cockles of my heart.

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