Whenever I get sick things slow down. Way down. I’m forced to stop, to sit, to pay attention to the things I normally ignore or hurry by on a daily basis. Being sick also has the benefit of allowing me to let things go that normally consume my mind.
I allow others to speak because my throat is sore; so I listen more. I choose my few words carefully to seek being understood. I let others cook, clean up and take care of me, which is no easy feat. Sometimes their definition of cleaning up is different than mine, resulting sometimes in piles of messes that normally would haunt and mock me, but I must let sit there. There are dishes in my sink that haven’t been cleaned in 5 days, oh well, my body says. Let them stay there, my mind says. When normally it screams out NOW they must be done NOW.
I also give permission for life to happen without me because my need for a nap (or multiple naps) outweighs my fear of missing out. For once, I’m okay with just looking at Instagram stories instead of bothered at the fact I’m not there too.
When I’m sick I study God’s word way more. I have time to sit down, take it in, and not think about the 50 things I have to do next. I meditate and ponder His words more. I let them wash over my life and pray for clarity to understand through the fog of cold medicine. Verses, words, and chapters leap off the page of His book… some I know I would have just skimmed over if healthy.
It’s an hourly battle when I’m sick to not let the sickness steal my joy and sometimes, I must admit to you, it does. Especially the moments I can be found bent over a toilet- yuck! But other times, most of the time, I am thankful and oddly full of praise.
I know what you’re thinking… What?!?
Yep. Praise. Because to be sick is to have at least once had the opportunity to be healthy. To have an annoyance at my constant dripping nose and aching body means at one time, I knew what it was like to have a non-dripping nose and non-aching body. I am thankful.
I am thankful to serve a God who sees me, even when I’m sick. Even when it’s a Friday night and I rather be with friends, at a local football game, or on a date with my husband, that I am here, sitting on our front porch, seen and loved by the God Almighty, even among the sea of tissues and dirty clothes on my bedroom floor.
