I can feel it, you know. I really can. Even though there is still a lot of pain. Even though we still have no diagnosis. Even though nothing has actually changed, I still know that I am being prayed for and it is kind of an amazing experience.
This morning I woke up early and in a lot of pain. But as I was laying there, I felt such a sense of love and calm. I just knew that someone was praying for me at that moment. (I suspect it was my Director... who has been praying for me at his services over the last few days.) We have our regular monthly lunch date this week, only this time HE is bringing lunch. And the sacrament. When I asked him to bring communion, I cried. I am not sure why. I think it is because communion always feels like such a love-fest with God. The prospect of having it in my own home, after a couple of weeks without it, feels like and incredible gift. Bless you Fr. P.
This afternoon I went to my sister in law's house for the annual Nguyen Family Vietnamese New Year bacchanalia. I held court in a chair in the corner and was mildly bored having to talk about my health to 20-something relatives, but felt well cared for and loved, nonetheless. Tempura shrimp and Vietnamese New Year's bean cakes go a long way towards curing what ails you.
And tonight, I am turning in early to read more of Hebrew Scriptures, which continue to intrigue and confound me.
God is good. God is so very good.
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