A Beautiful Day

Today was a good day for me.

This morning I got up on time even though I didn't set my clock (in a passive-aggressive attempt to shirk my responsibilities of the day). I almost went back to bed, which I would have regretted when I woke up the second time, but for some reason I decided not to. I still don't know what was different about this morning than every other morning that I've woken up and talked my half-asleep brain out of doing what I need to; I wish I did, so I could duplicate it in the future.

I spent the entire day in service with four of the nicest ladies -- two Spanish-speaking and two Deaf.  We spent most of the time searching for Deaf people in our territory, but the day ended with L--- and me going to a nursing care facility to hold a bible study with a quadriplegic Deaf woman (S---) who was unable to move her fingers or lift her arms to sign to us.

I was touched to the point of tears at L---'s patience in trying to understand a request from this poor woman. L---, being Deaf herself, certainly relates the frustration that S--- must feel, a thousand-fold, with being unable to make herself understood. We spent half an hour trying to understand what S--- was asking us to do, and went away never having understood it.  The whole experience made me appreciate my blessings and also recognize my flaws; I don't have a fraction of the selfless patience that L--- showed, or that S--- showed when we failed, again and again, to understand her.

The best part of the whole experience, though, was the reason for L-_-'s visit: to teach S--- about prayer.  How to pray, what to pray about, and most importantly, that prayer is both necessary and healing.

All people pray, even those who claim not to believe in God (just put them in the right circumstance and they're willing to test out prayer on the off chance it might help). But many people -- even those with no doubt as to God's existence -- feel surprisingly awkward when it comes to actually developing a habit of talking to God through prayer. It makes sense to me; if you don't hear an answer back, and you aren't too sure you fully understand who you're talking to, and if nobody has ever really taught you how to do this seemingly-awkward thing, you might feel like it's better to save it for emergencies, when looking or feeling foolish is less important than, say, saving your skin. But when you move past the awkwardness, it becomes what it was meant to be: the sensation of never being all alone in the world, no matter where you are or what happens in your life. 

So here is this woman, all alone most of the time in a bed she can't move from, surrounded by people she can't communicate with, and here comes L---, offering the notion of having someone she can pour her heart out to day and night, that she is never truly alone.  It's one thing to believe in God, but it's quite another to feel that he is so close that you can speak to him at any time. For those of us who believe that, it's enough to bring you to tears just thinking about it. For someone to whom the idea is fairly new, it's...a feeling of wonder, maybe? Thinking back to that revelation for me, I would have to say that it felt like an enormous weight had lifted from my entire being. I know, that sounds hokey, but it's the truth, so there you go.

So, I got up on time to fulfill my obligations, I shared this beautiful moment with L--- and S---, and then, I mounted my bike on my car, drove to M---'s house, and we rode around for a bit, stopping and 5 & Diner for dinner.  I felt strong, better than I did the last time, able to keep up and not take any breaks from the ride.  In short, it was a good evening.

I felt accomplished today. Proud of myself. The peace of knowing I did what I was supposed to do was buoying, and the pleasure of physical exercise was invigorating. It was a good day.  The only dark mark on today is the twinge of guilt I feel at having a good day when you have no days at all; it feels selfish. Next time maybe I will be able to enjoy it all without the guilt; we'll see.

<3