Today was my final Sunday at St. James Episcopal in Lincoln City. It was a valuable experience for me, because making music while injured lifted my spirits in a way that is difficult to describe. Okay, I'll try. This congregation was very warm and accepting, and I had the opportunity of playing with two other fine musicians, a cellist and flautist that helped me navigate the service, and gave musical support to the sometime chunky playing of my right hand. The supply priest, who is getting up there in years and didn't remember working with me a few weeks before, pointed out the splint I was wearing on my hand. He was also wearing one, because of a broken thumb, though on his left. I heard him before the service, asking the lecter to help him fasten something on his robe. He commented on how many things were difficult because of the lack of the use of his thumb. Tying shoes, buttoning pants, etc. I would add, since I have lost the use of my dominant hand, writing, eating, brushing my teeth, preparing food. I am practically living in elastic waist pants (unless I have a gig), and have only worn slip-on shoes since the accident. I guess I'm lucky the injury happened in the summer. Anyway, I digress...
At the end of the service, the priest asked me to hold up my hand, and told the congregation, "Many churches are known as St. Luke in the Field, St. Mary's of the Valley, or Church of the Holy Cross. This church will now be known as St. James - Church of the Broken Thumb."
At the end of the service, the priest asked me to hold up my hand, and told the congregation, "Many churches are known as St. Luke in the Field, St. Mary's of the Valley, or Church of the Holy Cross. This church will now be known as St. James - Church of the Broken Thumb."