We went to the blessing of our new nephew. A joyous occasion, held in a church hall, attended by a small group of regulars—maybe thirty people—and all of EaZyD’s family.
Even before we got there, EaZyD (my long-suffering partner) and I, we were having a BAD week—building works, new equipment, pins and needles in my right hand—a deterioration disaster. And, as ever, on the day, despite massive effort, we were late which was, annoyingly, not uncommon for us and guaranteed to really bug some of the family.
We crept into the back of the room, as much as you can in an ugly wheelchair that smashes into all the doorframes and requires rearrangement of the four rear rows of seats! Perhaps no one would notice us!
The service had started, and continued, with much gospel-type singing and relating of miracles. Religion is not really my thing, but to each his/her own. I began to nod my head along with the music and chill. My mind wanders; I refocus on the hand life was currently dealing us—misery!
I suddenly realize that the Minister is asking who wants to be blessed. I sit in silence but am getting a very bad feeling about this as the Minister, now roaming the room, seems to eye me hopefully—naturally I’m the only person in a wheelchair! I have a horrible suspicion that Faith, EaZyDs mum, a genuine believer has, in all good faith, set us up.
The Minister approaches; I do not catch his eye or look up at all. My worst fears are realized as the Minister says that “as God’s presence is so strong today,” he insists on blessing Faith’s whole family! Sotto voce. I say to EaZyD, “Get me out of here, now.” “How?” he mutters. I wish that I could turn to God to get me out of here ...
I feel slightly sick as each individual member of the family is “blessed”—this involves at least three people chanting and singing about how life will be just peachy if God is given free reign! I am wishing that I was anywhere but here. I really do not need this!
