Insanity

SO.

So.

The Baths at Lourdes.

I gotta say. Catholics really must look insane to the outside world.

Catholics are the kind of people who, at least once a week on Sundays, and sometimes every day if they are trying to be especially good, eat something which looks like bread, but is apparently Body, alongside something which smells like wine, but is apparently Blood.

..........weird, right?

Catholics are the kind of people who go in a little box, kneel down, and spew forth their dastardly deeds to a man who then tells them everything is a-ok as long as they go say Hail Mary and try not to do any of it again.

And they actually believe him.

Catholics are the kind of people who have a dozen kids and seem to think nothing of it.

You can't make this stuff up.

Catholics are also the kind of people who travel to small towns in France in order to get dunked in ice cold mountain spring water that supposedly has healing properties.

I mean, who DOES that?

Well, this girl for one.

It was the craziest experience ever.

After about a 45 minute wait outside a low stone building, I was called into a curtained room along with 5 other women, and led to a chair where I was told to put my bag. I turned expectantly to my guide, eagerly awaiting my next instructions.

She started to help me take off my jacket. Fine, good.

That accomplished, I turned to her again.

She looked at me like I was an idiot. In a flurry of motion, and a flood of French sprinkled with bits of English, I was informed that she wanted it all off. Every last bit of clothing. And underclothing.

HERE? In a room full of STRANGERS?

I am a repressed Canadian girl. We don't do public nakedness. We are the kind of people who don't kiss others on the cheek in greeting; we gingerly stick out a cold hand for a brief hand shake. And then we surreptitiously dump hand sanitizer on our hands. For the germs. Obviously.

I just stared at her. She sighed and motioned to the cloak she was holding. She would hold it up as I stripped down. No worries.

No WORRIES? I was expecting a little change room, and some sort of disposable bathing suit.

Clothes stripped, wrapped in a long cloak, I was then pushed through another curtain. Three women awaited me there, smiling angelically....which did not prepare me for what happened next.

The cloak was stripped from me and there I was, naked as the day I was born, but without the benefit of being unaware that I was, shivering in front of three elderly French women. I felt like delivering some sort of tirade:

"What is this place? Why don't you get change rooms? Can't I just walk into the water with the cloak on? Only my doctor gets to see me naked, and then only in bits, never all at once. And we always deflate the situation by talking about traveling. He tells me where I should go, and I tell him where I want to go, and they are never the same place, but that's ok because at least it's a distraction. WE, ladies, don't even speak the same language!"

I talk when I get nervous. A lot. Even if it's just in my head.

I also laugh. So, I laughed.

"Shhhhhhh, Mademoiselle. Shhh......."

I was distracted by the towel they then proceeded to wrap around me. After that it was a blur. I was pulled into water the temperature of barely melted ice and told to say a prayer of my choice. I could barely concentrate because I was shaking so much. It must have partly been the cold, but it also felt as if huge amounts of adrenaline were coursing through my body. In spite of the frigidness, it felt as if a bolt of warm energy was pulsating through every fiber of my being.

The next thing I knew, I was sitting in a chair, wrapped in the trusty blue cloak, still shaking, but not at all cold. I put on my clothing in a numbed silence, and walked out into the brisk fall air.

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I didn't get exactly what I asked for; I think I got more. It is as if joy is bouncing through my soul, and peace has been abundantly bestowed on me. There is also a strong stirring of hope that while I did not immediately get what I requested, it will happen. The miracle is that I am ok with that. I am fine with waiting.

This from someone who gets really, really, punchy if she is made to wait for anything.

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A priest I talked to on Sunday morning told me that healing is not always what one expects.

God desires us to be whole, and sometimes the suffering we carry allows us to be more whole and contribute to his glory in a way that would not happen if it was taken away.

Healing, then, is when his will and our will collide in a joyful one-ness that breeds an inexplicable happiness.

What more could one ask for?