So, I went to urgent care last night, and saw a specialist today, and here’s the scoop:

I’ve nicely bruised my vocal chords (blood and swelling on them right now) and most likely have a hairline crack on the cartilage plate that covers the chords. What this means practically is that I won’t be doing any public speaking for at least two weeks. I almost have no voice right now (kind of a hoarse whisper) and I can’t really swallow because of the pain, so sleeping last night was pretty much out.

Funny though, I had a wonderful time with Jesus in between all the horrendous swallowing pain. Man, I love him. And I’ve got a strange peace about all this that isn’t even tied to a “this will all work out and I’ll be able to speak fine again” train of thought. Regardless of how this turns out (I think the prognosis is fine, BTW) I’m in good hands and can never not be, because I’m dearly loved by “the Consuming Fire who made the worlds.”

It feels amazing when the peace of God is just there, not because you’ve tried to work it up (I actually think that’s impossible), or pretend you believe it or talk yourself into it, or because you’re being vigilant to hold on to it, but because Love is holding on to you and you’re swooning almost absent-mindedly amidst the fragrance of his scandalous embrace.

That embrace has come in little pieces, too, through so many folks in my church, on Facebook, email, and even the Twittersphere.

Ouch! I just swallowed again.