Abraham and the Hospital Bed

 

On my recent second hospital stay, I was placed in a very strange feeling bed that rocked me with pockets of air.  It was good for me, they said, but gave me an unsettling feeling. Suddenly, I am aware of every part of my body and what it is doing. After a few hours with no sleep, a song popped into my head: Rocka my soul in the bosom of Abraham. Once it popped in, it wouldn’t go away, so I had puffy air rocking me up and down and a silly song looping through my brain, and I couldn’t remember the end of the song. However, being rocked in Abraham’s bosom with his intuitive God in attendance sounded pretty good to me, sort of like a lullaby to croon me to sleep. Anglicans especially hold the bosom as being held in the communion of saints, Abraham and other believers who pray for someone, and I was certainly being prayed for. I thought all this over and decided it was comfortable as long as I remembered it was not a literal thing where I was next to Abraham’s skin that lived in hot and cold tents and had little water for bathing. Remember, I said to myself” Intuitive and spiritual.

 

But somewhere in the night, after being waked up every hour by nurses, I got really some really silly steroid IV highs remembering Sarah, the long-suffering wife of Abraham. Recalling Abraham telling her that God told him to pick up and move, she probably said, “You want me to do what, you silly man?” All the servants, all the stored food jars and all, all the rugs and blankets, all the animals, all the everything. “You want me to do what?” But she did it.  So I spent the night entertaining myself with the hard sweaty jobs she had to do or oversee.  One being to convince the help that they had to go along to unknown places. As usual with God in attendance, it all worked out, and today we sing an old spiritual about the man who was a first patriarch, family man and the guy who spawned a popular song without even thinking about his very own bosom. And when they had that baby, I’ll bet he never got up with it at night, and that baby never felt his bosom after dark if at all.

Abraham and Sarah entertained me for several days as I rocked on air. With great relief, I graduated to a better bed.

 

 

 

 

About Naomi

I am a writer and Christian educator who works in several genres with a specialty in materials for persons with disabilities. The Long Road Home Romance Collection includes one of my books (11/14), and I just finished the first draft of a Quick Look handbook to help persons who teach an inclusive classroom. I love playing and listening to classical music, fishing, doing family things, and, in spite of my non-interest in identifying birds, have come to name them because of my bird watching husband, Bob. My children and grandchildren, because of their expertise in different fields, have broadened my lens for looking at the world.

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