What a week. 

What a difference a week can make. Or, in this case, two weeks. 

My apologies, Gentle Reader, for not posting here last week. I was busy attending a national church convention in St. Louis. We had a wonderful time, caught up with a lot of old Congregationalist friends, and learned a few new things. 

We got a scare on the way home. Your New Favorite Writer experienced a sudden weakness of the thighs amounting to total collapse. I had to hunker over the sink in the hotel bathroom because my legs wouldn’t stand up. It was terrifying.

Praise the Lord, it was a transient episode. After a minute or two, I was all right.

But it happened again at home the day after we got back. This time, I called 911. 

A squad of paramedics and firefighters swooped down and bore me, as on angels’ wings, to the University of Wisconsin Hospital Emergency Room. It was all very swift and efficient. 

It was still scary.

At the hospital, medicoes gave me an MRI scan and found spinal stenosis in the lumbar region. Displaced vertebrae squeezed the nerves that work my legs, and that’s what caused a temporary paralysis. If left untreated, this condition might kill those nerves and make me a permanent invalid.

I sure am glad we have doctors. And nurses. And MRI machines, and the technicians who run them. God bless them, every one.

I have an appointment with a neurosurgeon, and we’ll schedule an operation to fix the problem. Soon, I hope. 

Regular readers of this blog will appreciate the irony. In our last installment, I had just turned 80 and was flying high with the thrill of being in such good shape, looking forward to an active old age. 

“Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall.”—Proverbs 16:18

“How are the mighty fallen!”—2 Samuel 1:19.

The Bible has a lot of sayings like that.

I never used to be very good at praying, but I’ve gotten better—because so many friends need prayers. In the last decade, no day goes by but two or three people of my acquaintance need intercessory prayer—often for cancer, but for other woes as well. 

I often thank God for the astounding string of blessings that has allowed me to escape major health threats. Until now.

Going to the ER was an emotional experience. Answering questions posed by paramedics, doctors, and nurses, my voice trembled—a sign that I was shaken.

Lying on the gurney awaiting an MRI scan, I prayed sincerely to the Lord God above—up there somewhere beyond the fluorescent ceiling lights. I prayed an intercessory prayer, this time on my own behalf. But I also mentioned my friends Stu and Janet, visited by different forms of cancer—because the Lord knows we’re all in this together.

After my MRI scan, as I lay on the gurney awaiting transport back to the ER, I said Psalm 23 in my mind two or three times. I was led beside the still waters; I was made to lie down in green pastures; His rod and His staff, they comforted me. 

Over a long lifetime I have been, at times, a reluctant convert, honoring God more by omission than observance. But as we age, our perspective tends to true up. Life is fleeting and precious. 

Years of spiritual training and practice have prepared me, at least a bit, for this moment. I know some good ways to get in harmony with the Creator and enjoy my role in His universe.

I hope the surgery will be soon. Please pray that I make a good recovery. 

Blessings,

Larry F. Sommers

Your New Favorite Writer