Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Be Still

My little joint stays swollen, so the doctor orders an MRI today.  

Stripped down, wrapped in warm blankets, and encased in strange foam to hold me in place, I enter the dark tunnel.

The MRI, I'm told by a technician who smiles kindly, will take one hour.

One hour?  What will I do for one hour inside that machine?  And I just finished two cups of coffee!   "You're kidding, right?"  I say and give the technician a wide smile.  "I thought this thing takes a couple of minutes.  And it's just this little finger," I remind him and wiggle it in front of him.  

"No.  It takes an hour," he confirms. 

I think of what I could accomplish in one hour.  What a waste! 

They put earphones on my head to pipe in music of my choice, but the channel turns to static (just my luck!). The machine growls and grunts at 2 minute intervals, and I feel like I'm being launched into space.

When I tell my body to stay still, it responds with twitches.  When I tell my hand to just calm down, it won't.

The command to be still challenges me to the very ligaments and tendons of my being.

Finally, I relax. Without distraction, I visualize each member of my family and pray for them by name.  I pray for my neighbors.  I pray for myself.  I start worshiping God in this bizarre place.  Suddenly, I'm having the kind of conversation with God I've been longing for, and it took me being practically mummified to hold me still long enough to face him. 

An hour passes, and they come and pull me out, unwrap me, and release me back to my life.  Within minutes, I'm driving in traffic I can hardly navigate.  It's all frenzy and lights:  cell phone ringing, clocks flashing, and bodies moving.  I can't think straight.  

All I want to do is go home to my bed, wrap myself in blankets, and get back to that space where I learned to be still. 


_____________________
Journal:  When was I really still today?

6 comments:

Leslie Mateer said...

What a beautiful entry! I hope all your tests turn out well, Heather.

Robin @ Pink Dryer Lint said...

Great post. This is why I occasionally find an odd sense of pleasure in sickness (bizarre as it sounds) becasue it forces me to slow down and be still. A vacation would be better of course, but a girl takes what she can get. ;)

Your flair-chronicling has almost reached a full year. I'm eager for the 365th post, Heather!

jeedoo said...

Thanks, Heather. The Lord and I keep talking about being still, staying focused. I used to be so focused, but it seems to have disappeared. So now I know the secret--get an MRI. Or, as I'm seeking to do, make REST my word for the year and my focus for Lent.

Ceil Wilson said...

Heather, I had a similar experience in an MRI tube years ago. I came prepared to listen to music, but the music didn't work...so all I had left to do was talk with God. And He met me there, in the MRI tube, in a remarkable way. I felt so LOVED by Him. Just loved. It filled me up and was like balm to every hurt spot in me, body and soul. He loves me. And that is enough.

LivewithFlair said...

Beautifully said everyone! I like the idea of "rest" for Lent. And I love Ceil's experience of that balm that went deep into the body! Robin and Leslie, you both are such an encouragement!!

Vodka Mom said...

wow. And when they tried to give ME an MRI?? I ran away freaked out after five minutes and waited three days for the open one.


And in the end? It wasn't really open after all.


I adored this post.