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Pentecost Sunday

Pastoral

A Taste of My Own Pastoral Medicine

As I write this blog post I’m traveling on a plane heading to 37,000 feet and living in fear. I wonder when I will become dizzy, experience vertigo, pass out, lose my breakfast, or if my head is going to explode. Gross, I know. I have never been a woozy air traveler, but everything just changed.

After waking up one morning last week with maddening ringing in my head and unable to hear in one ear, I found myself sitting in a doctor’s office. “Well, we don’t know what you have but we have some good ideas. We need to run some more tests. Until then, I would not recommend loud places or air travel.” My doctor said.

Gulp. “I have to fly next week and I’m leaving the country the week after that.” I said. The doctor rolled his eyes and asked, “Do you have to fly?”

As I sat and listened to the extended directions on medications, tests, dangers of flying, and theories into sensory hearing loss from my physician, I could not help but think of the sermon I just preached to my congregation:

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