FAITH....KEEP IT.

WHAT CANNOT BE TAKEN AWAY FROM YOU

Photo by Rachel McDermott on Unsplash

I was recently invited to a home which for one evening functioned as a home church. A Birthday was being celebrated and the guests were new Brazilian immigrants to Canada. The only person who spoke english was a man called Israel. Really? I asked looking at the lively man who shook my hand. Yes ,he said I am the Pastor of an Evangelical Church. It is very small we rent a place but lack off money gives us the privilege of conducting an entire service in a home. Just wait. and see. My daughter speaks English she will translate for you.

I was not in top form as i was recovering from a soft tissue injury of the IT band. Weekly Physio and anti inflammatories had become my depressng life. The pain had rendered my leg weak and the slightest movement sent crippling pain shooting up my leg. Full recovery would take eight weeks declared my Orthopaedic Genius and his statements were written in stone and correct. A lovely friend had lent a sleek wheelchair used for taxi rides to Physio clinic. Stairs were out as were baths and showers where i was supervised. It was a curse i thought. I had become this thing whom I did not recognize. Physical pain is the great leveller. Life had a routine now. The Health Club was on hold but i worked out on my yoga mat at home every other day . There was no dressing up just a uniform of gym leggings and t shirts.

My stunning moroccan couch in my living room became command post Number 2. Post waking up i spent long hours on it. Mostly watching every Serial on Netflix so I could forget my condition. Friends brought my groceries in and bent over i could hobble to the kitchen and prepare quick meals. It seems i never finished anything so a lot of meals became unwanted leftovers.

When was wheeled into the apartment there were about twenty people and a few teenagers. i was introduced to everyone. Then Pastor Israel started his sermon punctuated by prayers and the tiny congregation were fervent participants. one lady trembled and quivered with tears rolling down her face. It was a bit of Elmer Gantry .drama right here in Toronto conducted by people who had not even attained their permanent status as yet. They laboured prodigiously in house cleaning and construction jobs . Smiling cheerful faces which often glanced at me with warmth and mild curiosity.

Then the Pastor announced in english that a prayer would be said for my healing. They circled me raised their faces upwards and recited words in portugese where i was awash with acute embarrassment. If they knew about my somewhat ignostic stance on Religion would they have considered me unworthy? Dabbling in world spiritualties all i had mastered was to show respect . > However sacred music always moved me. That the music lover in me I assumed. Gregorian chants, The Muslim Azaan the call to prayer, Sufi songs did still manage to give goosebumps.

The wife of Pastor Israel was also a pastor. She was a stunning Brazilian beauty with pale skin and a shining mane of auburn hair. Her very delicate feet rested in a nude leather heeled sandal which made me chuckle at the thought of a woman who was devoted to her husband’s church and participated in his services but kept her shoewear chic and sexy. Having a passion for shoes i gave her top marks for this rather frivolous point.

There was a shift in the praying mini congregation and the lady Pastor moved forward and reached me , bent over and held the knee of my e injured leg. Here she made a passionate exhortation which the others in the room repeated. It was a healing touch scenario straight out of the pages of the bible i thought. I almost burst into tears because i felt a vibrational collective prayer cover me with some mysterious emotion. It was a cross between protection and supplication. For a moment she raised her head and glanced at me .

Photo by Claudio Schwarz on Unsplash

At that moment she had convinced me that she had the power to truly speed the healing of my pain lanced leg. In fact she had a hot line to Jesus. All I had to do was to place my belief or faith in this.

The next day i straightened my body and placed my full weight on both legs. Then i walked very slowly from my bedroom to my kitchen. I walked close to objects I could catch as an insurance against the leg buckling suddenly and my falling. i never fell. The leg felt a little weak but was steady. The 8 week prediction of a brilliant orthopaedic Surgeon had been beaten by four days. For half an hour I had clung to faith that the laying of hands could work. In conclusion faith has many faces. Keep it and surprise yourself.