A Thin Place

When I walked into meeting today, Jana was there. I was thrilled to see her. After she was hit by a car several weeks ago, no one knew what was going to happen.  Her recovery has been incredible, and last Tuesday, she got to go home.  Because of her broken leg, she is in a wheelchair, and she has months of various kinds of therapy ahead, but she looks amazing.

Jana seemed surprised by all the attention she was getting.  She said that people keep telling her that she sounds just like herself, and she wonders how else she would be.  Knowing that she would be mobbed if they stayed out in the social hall, Jana's husband took her into meeting early.  Others joined and we all settled.

The meeting today had a special quality.  We were silent for longer than usual, and three weighty Friends gave messages out of that silence.  One in particular spoke to me.  A Friend shared about a family in our meeting—a grandson, Milo, was born last week, and his grandmother, Lynn, is in the process of dying.

This message struck a chord in me because I was that baby. 

My mom was eight months pregnant with me when her mother died.  I know it was an incredibly hard time for her and the rest of my family, but it has also been a blessing for me.  Even though I was born in a time of great sorrow, I have always known that my birth was a cause for great joy.

It may surprise Jana that so many people are happy that she is herself, but her accident was a reminder to all of us that she is a miracle.  And the message today reminded me that we are all miracles—Lynn and Milo are miracles, I am a miracle, and you are too.  I think it is easier to remember that during times like birth and death, and I am grateful to be able to remember it now as well.