google said I am dead in six weeks. (And thoughts on healing)

I am still thrown off by the Monday holiday. On top of the confusion of what day is it?, I have not been feeling well. I made the mistake of going to "the google" with my not so great symptoms. Not surprised in the least that I have about six weeks to live. Ya know. According to "the google". No matter what you search, google wants you dead.

My Parish had a healing Mass last night...I almost didn't go, because I didn't feel well. Ponder that for a while, would you?

Then I did go, and I didn't even consider praying for myself. Not because I am a martyr. But I just figure...I don't know....besides the fact that God knows all, I just don't want to waste my moment to bring loved ones before God who could use real healing, because I have a head ache...or my joints ache. I mean...there is in need of healing...and then there is just get a cup of coffee and accept that you are old. Right?

The google has me dead in six weeks, anyway. And google is never wrong.

But back to the healing Mass. First of all, healing is exhausting. I suppose sobbing for nearly four hours straight might play a part in that. But I couldn't help myself....I looked around....the crowd of people...and I thought, was this what is was like? The crowds that swarmed Jesus...climbing trees to see Him...getting in boats and following Him...walking for miles in the hopes of just touching his tassel...a hand on his cloak...waiting in such holy anticipation because you know without a doubt that this divine man? He IS capable of healing. Healing everyone. Especially the one people say stand no chance of healing. Was this what it was like?

My sweet friend leaned in and whispered to me, "Isn't it funny? All the people coming because it is a healing Mass...because they are in need of healing. But isn't every Mass a healing Mass? Isn't Jesus always present?"

This friend? We all need this friend. A friend whose mere presence is a healing balm to your weary and tired soul. A friend who weeps for and with you. A friend who is so gentle and loves you even though you are so not gentle and usually too loud. A friend who brings two of the same exact prayer book, filled with photos of loved ones and well worn prayer cards tucked between wrinkled pages. I love her.

And I wish I were not sinful in the least or raised an eyebrow when the child with a hurt shoulder from throwing a baseball was healed....who said he had shoulder pain for a whole month. ONE month. I wish I didn't tally up the years of suffering in my own mind and compare my cross to his. But I did. However...Jesus quickly set me straight.

Did we all leave healed? Well. No. Not in the way we picture our healing to be. But I believe...in the depths of my broken heart...that there absolutely was healing for everyone. Even me, with just six weeks to live. Maybe not the healing we all wanted. But the healing we all needed. I believe that. I trust in Jesus. I know He knows what I need better than I think I know. I just do.

My sweet friend bought me and my son healing rosary bracelets after Mass. It is just one decade, but I prayed the full rosary on my mine today, because not only am I a Marian over achiever, but I don't mess around when it comes to battling the enemy. My sweet son slipped his bracelet onto his wrist, and I tucked the beautiful prayer card that came with it into his backpack. My favorite part of this prayer says, "Since you created me out of nothing, you can certainly recreate me"...and then..."May your life giving powers flow into every cell of my body and into the depths of my soul. Mend what is broken. Cast out anything that should not be within me. Rebuild my brokenness."

I love this prayer. I believe this prayer. I trust that we can be healed and that we can always rebuild. No matter what "the google" says. And I believe that four hours with a friend who loves Mary, whose heart breaks for Jesus, who saves you a seat, and will carry you and your loved ones to Jesus herself, is in and of itself a healing of its own kind.