December 22, 2003

Well, That Was Quick
entry,

I had my own little Christmas Miracle a few days early on Sunday. See, I'm a Sunday School teacher (believe it or not, it's true) and I had this really cool lesson prepared, but as of Saturday I was waaaay too sick to actually TEACH it. Ordinarily this wouldn't be a problem -- I'd just get a substitute for this week, and teach my lesson later -- but it was full of stuff that was kind of time-sensitive, what with Christmas right around the corner. I really, REALLY wanted to get better in time to teach it.

We Mormons do this "faith-healing" thing that involves a pair of priests and fairly specific prayers. (We also do vitamins, hospitals, and medicine -- we're faithful, not crazy.) Saturday morning when I was at my absolute worst (even while fully medicated) I had Sandra call around for a couple of faithful brethren in hopes of getting a blessing. After a few minutes of busy-signals, no-answers, and he's-not-homes there was a knock on the door. The Bishop was dropping off a Christmas card.

He knew exactly who to call in order to round up a second set of hands (the Mormon faith-healing blessing requires two or more priesthood holders), and in minutes I was getting prayed on. Specifically, the blessing stated that I'd be able to teach the next day.

I felt like crap for the rest of Saturday. By "crap" I mean that I felt like something that had gotten eaten by a wild beast, digested, and then crapped out. Over the edge of a cliff. I was flat on my back for something like 15 hours, and then it was bed-time. I went to sleep with visions of sugar-plum-fairies being attacked by vampires... fever dreams are like that.

Sunday morning rolled around. The dose of acetaminophen (crystalline C8H9NO2, for the chemists in the house) had worn off, yet I felt strangely human. Better, even. In fact, I felt great. Off to church with me, lesson materials in hand, and a song in my heart.

The lesson I presented went really well. I won't go into details, save to say that it was very spiritual, and highly appropriate.

I got home after church and collapsed into a three-hour heap of nap that basically said "you're not QUITE done being sick."

There are all kinds of empirically-observable phenomenon that can account for the experience I had. They fail completely to detract from the happy sense of the miraculous that Sunday left me with.

I hope that this Christmas you're able to see the miraculous in something fairly ordinary. Especially if you can do it without getting sick.