The Healing Power Of A Mushroom

She prayed for compassion, a deeper understanding, empathy for her patients' suffering. She prayed, and then one day she ate a mushroom. "Six weeks ago," she said, "and four days spent in the hospital."  Each day afterward, a challenge to perform even the most mundane activities. This, a vibrant, fit and active woman. A business owner, a healer without health insurance. Some gifts, they lay deep and hidden, layered they are with pain and hardship, sickness and loss, and once in a while, severe reaction to freshly picked mushroom.  I took a breath and asked a question, the bold and courageous probing that does warrior battle with all complaints and resentment. "So your illness, this mushroom picking crisis, it was a gift then?" Her hazel eyes lit up in perfect comprehension. "Now I understand my patients' suffering better, I can see what they  are walking through. Before, I couldn't relate to their pain." A moment's pause. "Now I can," she said. "It's the gift," I offered. "The gift was your severe illness. A blessing." Her smile widened. "I prayed for it and that's how I got it, the compassion I prayed for." I scanned the gym, at all the people trying to stay fit, to be healthy and active, to live strong. Sometimes the blessing is found through deep suffering. Maybe all we can do is wait for the fog to lift, for time and insight to dry the damp mist cloaking the eyes. E.M. Bounds once wrote: "God sees to it that when the whole man prays, in turn the whole man shall be blessed." I looked at this healer woman again, measuring my words carefully, joyfully. "Thank you for sharing." We chatted for a few minutes, and she offered helpful information on the type of mushroom she found, ways to avoid her graven mistake. I answered emphatically, "No! I prefer to buy mine at Trader Joe's, thanks." Her laughter spilled all around us. An effervescent light shone from her eyes, an understanding of such things, such things in life too lofty to understand, yet beautiful enough to give thanks for. This thought, the loftiness of it all, I clutch it tight like verses to inspiring song, and I walked away that day knowing I would never eat a freshly picked mushroom. But I would always keep searching for gifts, for the light that drapes the weakest of moments is the treasure worth watching for.