Quiet healing

Rain in the night, lighter showers this morning. I woke up early, and despite not sleeping long enough, felt fairly clear headed, and listened to 'Sunday Worship' on Radio Four before getting up. It was a recorded service of Morning Prayer for Candlemass from St Giles' Parish Church in Wrexham, with Froncysyllte male voice choir contributing several items. It certainly wasn't Choral Matins as we know it, but the parts recited together were clear and coherent. The homily was about the nature of waiting. 

I was slow sorting myself out after breakfast, as I had a shower and washed my hair.  I was annoyed with myself for failing to put my fitbit back on when I got dressed afterwards. It means having to guesstimate when I've had enough exercise for the day. Clare left for church before me, and was waiting for the service to start, and for me to arrive when I caught her up in St Catherine's. On time, just! The brisk walk was refreshing and helped clear away the side effects of the meds.

We were about forty adults and kids. Ordinand Jeremy preached about waiting, starting from an anecdote about the loyalty of pet dogs waiting for their deceased masters to return. Fr Sion apologised for the lack of Lent books ordered for an ecumenical study session,  but not yet supplied. 

The idea crossed my mind, of recording a chapter each week for circulation to people signed up to order the book for the course, as and when it arrives. This would give them an opportunity to prepare the session in advance. I mentioned it to Sion who agreed it would be a useful thing to do. Fortunately Fr Andrew has a copy of the book in question, and agreed to lend it to me, so I can get busy and record a reading of the first session in good time.

After lunch I went to bed and slept for a refreshing hour instead of sleeping in my armchair. Then I went for a walk as far as Sophia Gardens and back along the Taff to Llandaff Fields. The sound of a Song Thrush duetting or competing for attention with a Great Tit was enchanting, I called in to the Padel courts 'Square + Fair' cafe through the side entrance to use a toilet. While I was in a cubicle the external shutters descended noisily without me realising. It was a surreal dreamlike experience. When I came out of the toilet I found myself in a strange darkened corridor with metal walls, and wondered where I was, but didn't panic. I went along the corridor to where light was shining through a glass door. Mercifully it was open, and I entered the cafe, just about to close at sunset. 

I was reminded of the sensation of disorientation I experienced after the stroke, unable to identify where I was in surroundings familiar but unrecognisable. I felt so good about coping without bewilderment that I laughed out loud telling the barista what happened. My brain was reacting at almost normal speed to an unexpected change and I didn't panic! A healing dimension of my stroke recovery seems to be revealing itself quietly - a gift to thank God for indeed.

Before supper Fr Andrew dropped off the promised Lent book: Retrieving Jesus - the way of love, by Bishop Marianne Edgar Budde. Time to set up a laptop with my digital microphone and find out how easy it will be to configure the kit for making a good clear voice recording. This took the rest of the evening until it was time for bed.