Even just a couple days before, though, I wasn't sure I would be able to do it. Did I so quickly forget how much energy I expend on a Sunday morning, from schmoozing alone? I was to the point that I could handle even multiple visitors a day... as long as I remained fairly stationary throughout the visit. I could go on a 15-20 minute walk... but that would be the only activity I could handle. A trip to the doctor put me on my back the rest of the day. Could I do two church services, plus the planned garden blessing at St. Martin??
Saturday night, I felt pretty good. I'd laid low for a couple days to save up my energy. I planned to arrive late to both churches so I would avoid any before schmoozing and just do the after-schmooze. Sunday morning I was full of energy! I was very excited to get dressed - I don't very often get to dress up for church anymore. It's usually just a matter of which drab shade of clergy shirt will I wear today, and try to make it interesting with a blazer or cool earrings. But this time - a dress! I needed something that would accommodate my drain - not just accommodate, but hide it so I could look as normal as possible. After looking in my closet a moment, I easily settled on my airplane dress. This is a dress I splurged on for my bridal shower. Michael loves airplanes, and the print of this dress is navy blue with off white clouds and airplanes on it, so I couldn't resist. It is modest on top and has a nice full skirt, so pinning a drain in the lining would hide it with no problem. Perfect!
So getting dressed: I've been wearing camisoles every day because they are comfy and with the one drain still, a bra rubs and hurts a little. I decided today I didn't care - I wore a real bra like a regular person!! Take that, mastectomy! (I could tell, however, that I am only 80% expanded on the one side - didn't quite fill out that side as well. But thanks for the forgiving dress bodice, no one could tell.) I was able to slip the dress on with no problem (button-up tops or stepping into clothes is the only way to get them on these days, since I can't raise my arm yet). It was a little chilly, so I added some blue tights - I will tell you that tights are not easy to get on right now! Not only does it require reaching, but also pulling. But I was determined, and I got them on. Then since it was Memorial Day weekend, I added some red shoes and earrings, and a red cardigan. Then of course a little make-up, including some red lipstick! And voila!
Michael drove me to church. I told him in the car that without sounding condescending, he needed to not let me expend too much energy at once. I knew I would get around people - and people I love, no less! - and would forget that I am still infirm. He agreed. We arrived at church in time for the Hymn of Praise. People started noticing I was there, and I would see them turning around and smiling in my direction. Sweet. When it came time for the passing of the peace, I didn't have to move - several people came to me, but not so many as to overwhelm me. Same after church, during coffee hour. They were very respectful, concerned, and loving. I did find it was difficult to stand all the way through the standing parts of the liturgy, and felt very strange sitting for hymns like "Come, Thou Almighty King" and "Holy Holy Holy," and especially for communion! I guess I have gained an appreciation for people who can't stand throughout the liturgy (for those of you who are reading this to whom this applies - please, sit down if you need to!). I also had trouble holding the hymnal, so I sat on the edge of the pew and rested it on the pew in front of me. (Luckily, at Bethlehem we had planned to worship outside - it ended up being too cold - so the hymns were all printed in the bulletin.) When announcement time came, someone made an announcement about her Relay for Life team. Then I stood up and said, "Speaking of cancer... I don't have it anymore!" *Applause* I thanked them all for their prayers and care, and for the beautiful quilt I have been nearly constantly cuddled under from when I regained consciousness, and how many compliments I'd gotten on it. I said I looked forward to seeing them again in a few weeks.
I lingered at Bethlehem - something I rarely get to do! - while my dad was the one who rushed off to the next place. It was such a luxury to be able to just chat with people, but I should have planted myself somewhere and let people come talk to me while I was sitting. As it was, I stood too long and Michael said, "You need to either sit or leave - too much energy!" Ok, dearest. :) So I waved goodbye to everyone and was on my way, so I'd have something left for the next stop. Michael dropped me off right at the door at St. Martin and I slipped in by my mom. My experience there was similar to Bethlehem, though I had to sit for more of the service. Again, I thanked them for all their prayers and care, and for those who had organized the prayer vigil in the hospital lobby during my surgery, saying how meaningful that had been to me, and also to my surgeon. Like Bethlehem folks, they were very happy to see me, many of them offering me giant grins and a, "Glad you're here! You look great!" It was very sweet. I was touched. After worship we had a garden blessing - St. Martin is just starting a vegetable garden on our property. This year it is just tomatoes. Bethlehem did the same last year (but with a large variety of veggies), and I had written a garden blessing for the first planting. I arranged before surgery to use the same one for this occasion, and my dad agreed to lead it. So I used my last ounce of energy to stand through the blessing. We had a good crowd! I am eager to see how we do, and so glad I got to be there for the planting.
Then I went home and napped. :)
Being there on Sunday, I was struck again by what important learning I am doing being the recipient of the ministry of my congregations. I get to know them in a way many pastors never get to. It certainly helps that I have been so very transparent with them about all of this, allowing myself to be vulnerable, and then to be cared for. Letting yourself be ministered to is not always easy, especially not for pastors, I imagine. There is a long history of pastors being perceived to be somehow above normal people - immune to pain, fear, and doubt. I am not immune to these things, and I don't how to pretend that I am. So I count myself extremely blessed to be the pastor of two communities that let me be a regular person, without ceasing to see me as their pastor, who respect my need to take care of myself without thinking any less of me as a person or a pastor. When I try to grasp all of this, I am overwhelmed, and when that wears off a bit, I find myself filled with immense gratitude and joy. Thank you God!
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