Hey, it’s me, John. By the time you read this I will probably have already come out of my surgery. No big deal. They’re just trying to open my sinus areas so I don’t get so many infections. Something about balloons inflated to permanently open my nasal passages. Modern technology my family line had to endure without.
I so look forward to “going under.” I so look forward to the whole process. Oh, my gosh! I love the part when they tell you to count backwards. Last time they didn’t do the counting part. I felt ripped off. I’m going to ask them to do it this time. I love waking up to where someone, somewhere is sternly saying, “Mr. Lynch, you need to take some deep breaths.” And slowly I begin to vaguely wonder who I am, where I am and why someone thinks I need to try harder at drawing a breath. I love being all feeble, woozy, dopey and fragile. I enjoy them carting me out in a wheel chair and helping me to not hit my head on the roof of my car, like you’d do with your grandfather. I love coming home and getting a meal on a tray and going in and out of a drug-induced stupor, contentedly watching infomercials and programs about how metal trowels are made.
I tell you, I was made for anesthesia. It’s like your body is giving you a periodic chance to shut down the computer. And then re-boot. Sometimes I reboot my computer and all sorts of good stuff comes back that got all distorted and muddled by the computer being on too long. So, tomorrow, I get to shut down and reboot. Who knows, maybe I’ll remember some cool things from my past, or my insecurity will be gone. Or I’ll discover I suddenly really like hip-hop-gansta-rap, or radishes, or blanched almonds. Who knows? But no matter what happens, this will be true: it’s been a great ride. Jesus turned out to be even greater than I thought at the start of my new life with Him. And I learned beautiful, healing, tender, sacred, wild grace. And I got to see a world beyond anyone’s dreams. And I got to share that life with many of you. And God, like a proud Father, smiled and laughed, shook His head, and enjoyed every minute of it. Ten, nine, eight, seven…
Sat, September 12, 2009
by David Pinkerton filed under