The Miracle Worker

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“Ouch man, that hurts,” he winced, “I think you’re punching an open wound.”

Beginning to stop, it was then that I noticed he had attached ear lobes.  Placing my palm on his forehead I instinctively began shaking it and mumbling, “They-want-to-be-free… They-want-to-be-free… Be free!!”

Letting out a soft, “Who are you?,” the man caught a glimpse of my t-shirt and began screaming for help. (As many people do when confronted with bold political change.)

Hearing the approaching footsteps of what I thought were policemen with bad credit, I  jumped to my feet and burst through a back door in the alley, inadvertently running into an exercise facility and up onto a treadmill where I unawares continued running and screaming in terror for the next two hours. (As there was a realistic mural of the city painted on the wall in front me.)

I noticed I was hungry after they turned the power off at the gym. So I headed to the fanciest restaurant in town in a desperate hope of giving one more shot at “doing someone a blessing,” (as I was starting to get tired of calling it by then.) Well, you may not believe this, but when I got there not only did I discover they had lobster on special for $29.99, but that I was also able to still fit out of the bathroom window after eating the entire plate!

Attempting to “pass the blessing,” (a term I have only used that one time because it sounds lame), back to the restaurant, I made a mental note during my fall from the window ledge that I should write to the owner about sealing those windows a little better, as it could save him literally tens of thousands of dollars a year on lawsuits from myself. However, getting up to do just that, I cursed life again, -having just realized I forgot to take the aerosol deodorant and cologne bottles on the counter.

Thinking all hope was lost, a passing school bus reminded me of my weekly trip to the school yard to make fun of kids for learning how to read. But again I stopped myself…Suddenly facing the crippling realization I didn’t care enough about children to expend that kind of energy on them. And I was this close to making a difference, too. “Why God?!” I screamed falling to my knees halfway, being careful to not get dirty.

Discouraged, at the end of my rope, my belly full of fine lobster, I began considering the erroneous possibility I hadn’t really made a difference in anyone’s life that day. -So I decided to walk into a theater where a local play was being performed and convince the manager I was there to provide sign language to the hearing impaired.

Upon entering and taking my place on stage, I quickly discovered this particular play seemed to provide me with a larger audience that I had ever previously performed to. It was entitled, “The Miracle Worker,” and although I had never heard of it before, apparently a lot of deaf people had.

At first I actually felt a bit overwhelmed by the large, defective-eared crowd before me… But then, as the curtain donned I felt something glorious and powerful within my bowels begin to rise up.   As I began a series of repetitive hand gestures I believed resembled sign language, I felt a strange power which somehow felt strangely familiar…

The dream!

It was all coming back to me now! The stage, the hopelessly confused faces looking to me for answers! Fully engaged in the moment, I stood proudly and knew it was my “time to bless.” (A term I’m not completely sold on yet. What do you think?) I even took time to thank God Himself that I never learned actual sign language, so I might feel uninhibited towards communicating freely.

Stated plainly; I was like a fantastically exploding supernova up there; completely glorious both in appearance and form. A shining testament to what can be accomplished when someone is fully hearing correct guidance on life and living. A man who had completely harnessed, and thereby unleashed, an unlimited power source of pure energy and who was, with every sweeping arm gesture, frog-leap, and jumping heel-click, blessing the core out of every deaf soul within earshot…

Yes, as the curtain closed that night you could see the “proof of blessing” transcribed on every stunned face. The “blessing train” had rolled through town my friends, mercilessly clearing everything in its path.

Returning home exhausted, I told my wife who was complaining about working a second job that I would rub her back if she first rubbed mine and then made me some waffles. The gesture even seemed to boost her sprits, proving the “blessing glow” was still heavy upon me. “Well I don’t believe this,” she exclaimed, willingly putting her remaining energy into working my “blessed out” shoulders. And, falling into a deep sleep as she did, I wondered what other wonderful blessings lied in store for me and others who would unwittingly cross my path in the next day…Closing my eyes and praying sincerely with all my heart as never before, I believed with the faith of a saint that somehow, someway, the waffles would keep until then.

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