Camp was a wonderful busy time, teaching a class, and having great conversations with beloved people. In the middle of it, however, I had a crisis that was beautifully met through divine love and spiritual prayer.

We had just finished a fun contradance in the lower lodge, and there was a campfire outside. I went out to the campfire, where I was asked a question about the Cherry Island swim I was organizing for early the next morning. Someone was looking for a ride, and I headed into the lower lodge again to make sure that was possible. On the way, I tripped on the unlit steps, and went down hard.

I tried to shake it off, but by midnight it was clear to me that I had broken my elbow. Long time blog readers may remember that eight years ago I broke the other one (see here on the blog) so I knew what I was dealing with, since I’d been through it before, and had X-rays taken of it then. That had been quickly healed through Christian Science treatment, so I wasn’t as worried or fearful about this calamity as you might think. I really never doubted that this too would be healed.

I didn’t get a wink of sleep that night, between the excruciating pain and the prayerful work, and I was upset that I would not be able to swim to Cherry Island (see here), which has been a highlight I look forward to all year. When I went to get dressed for the swim to begin the next morning at 7am, I couldn’t hold a piece of paper in my left hand, could’t tie my shoes, couldn’t get a bra on, and only could get on my baggy, zip-up fleece. It is very hard to get dressed one handed. Forget about trying to do anything about my hair! I was so disappointed in missing out on our annual swim.

I had made arrangements for a canoe to be brought around from the other side for a couple of older women to be able to participate, but when it came time for them to get in, neither one was interested in going. Suddenly I found myself hustled into that canoe, clutching my broken wing close, my camera in my pocket. I was going after all!

When swimming in the past, I often thought the event would be a good photo opportunity, and here I was, participating spontaneously in exactly that way. Fortunately, I’m comfortable shooting my iPhone one handed, and I got some good reference photos of the island shoreline that I intend to paint. And on the way back, a bald eagle flew low, right over our canoe; it was so majestic, it felt like a reassurance straight from God.

I was helped out of the canoe afterward, and a dear one offered me a sling made out of the belt to her bathrobe, to keep my arm immobile. It worked surprisingly well. I spent the rest of the morning loving on the community that had gone swimming, and when I got hot, I changed into my messy orange paint smock, which is two sizes too large to accommodate going over my winter coat. I was able to get into that and wore it braless the rest of the day. At noon, I chatted with a Christian Science practitioner, for healing prayer, which I don’t think I’ve done since my other broken elbow last time.

By 4pm Saturday, I called my husband to make a back-up plan, because I was concerned about being able to drive my stick shift car home with only one arm. We decided if it was still a problem by Tuesday, he’d drive our automatic van up, and I’d drive that home, while he drove home the stick shift. Both he and our daughter were praying too.

I didn’t miss out on anything else. Fortunately, it was my day off from teaching. I attended a singing circle that day, for example, and sang my heart out. I was out in community even though I was a mess, and clearly not myself, hurting and exhausted. What happened next broke open the floodgates, and the healing flowed smoothly after that. What was the turning point? Two dear friends offered to comb out my hair.

As we were beginning, a third friend texted me and asked if there was anything she could do. I texted back that we were playing beauty parlor in the Twin Pines cabin, and so she joined us as well. There was something in the angel touch of the one so lovingly and patiently combing out my hair. It was transformative. It set me to thinking about love.

Early in the week someone had said that “the only impact is Love.” While I was getting my hair combed out, I started relating that to my experience. I also remembered my Panoply of Love poem from a couple years ago. In that, I used a blanket as a metaphor for the idea of panoply, which is an obscure word that the discoverer of Christian Science used to describe a safe place where we can never be hurt. In my poem, the four corners of the blanket (or panoply) of love are: loving, lovely, lovable, and beloved.

During the sweet ministry of these dear people taking care of me, I realized that I spend at least 90% of my time outwardly loving, and very little time identifying with the other three aspects of love. In my poem, the safe place is achieved by clutching all four corners (types of love) close around me, and I had been only been holding onto only one. As I accepted others tenderly caring for me, the healing began.

That night, with my arm tied immovable, I slept well. In the morning I could get a regular shirt on, still braless. I had gained a little bit of dexterity and could tie my shoes if I brought my foot up high enough. There was a bit more range of motion without pain. I taught class in a sling and only once had to ask someone to open a jar. I was in front of everyone that evening contributing both poetry and song in the talent show.

The next day, (Monday) I could get my own bra on, and no longer needed the sling. My grip strength was back. That morning I could comb and braid my own hair, and by afternoon, I could put it up. I was giddy with gratitude.

I testified about it at the camp-wide morning meeting on Monday, and later learned doing so helped someone experience a complete healing of an injury she had of when an awl had gone all the way through her hand while in her leather-working class.

I think sometimes we are reluctant to be seen having problems, and I learned that sometimes it is important to allow yourself to be vulnerable enough to accept other people loving on you. If you do, it can bless you both, reciprocally.

Wherever we are, we can trust ourselves to love, and this is important to remember. God is divine Love itself, and that is enough for whatever you need.