Healed

So we got our first family cold last week. Right before thanksgiving. My daughter gave the bug to both my wife and me. They, of course, were fine within a day or so, while I got worse. I hadn't been sick in a while, and I didn't want to be sick on Thanksgiving. So, I did the usual, honey-lemon-this-that-and-the-other-thing. I also prayed for healing. Not only did I pray to get better, but to get better by Thanksgiving.

Well, typically, it takes me a week to two weeks to beat a cold, but this time, I refused to settle for anything thing less than recovery on Thursday from the cold that hit me the previous Saturday.

As the days rolled past, I felt myself begin to improve rapidly, almost to my surprise. By Wednesday night, I stopped using my cough drops because I was tired of my mouth tasting like menthol. By Thursday morning, I felt 99% healed. That is what I was thankful for.

The Power of Hope

It has been a while since I’ve made an entry, but a lot has occurred that I had problems deciding which topic to include. So, I have decided to put it all under the umbrellas of the power of hope.

November 1, 2006 has to be the warmest November I can remember in almost a quarter of a century of my life in Boston. The foliage color on the tree in the Public Garden reminded me of the beautiful autumns of my high school years that I always tried to replicate with watercolors in art class but never could. I then thought one way (war) or another (apocalypse) all that beauty could end in destruction. But it then it also seemed to me like heaven on earth, as I walk through, with people of every color coexisting in peace.

Then Deval Patrick became the first black governor of Massachusetts. This was something I honestly never thought I would live to see, and I’m not even at midlife, expected midlife anyway. But there it was. The icing on the cake was that the Democratic Party regained control of Congress. I pray they make judicious use of their power for the better good, particularly, for the victims of Iraq.

Finally, on my unwitting invitation some friends and family came to church last Sunday for my daughter’s dedication. Regardless of their belief or degree of it, they came. It blew me away. That’s the power of hope.