I’ve been very sick for a few days now. In some respects, these past few days seem just like a blur, a cacophony of fever and sleep and pain. One day is indiscernible from the next, until Saturday-ish, when things started looking up. The funny thing is, as much as I can’t really tell you what happened last Wednesday or even Friday, for that matter, I do remember some very distinct thoughts. I remember thinking, “Hmm…this sure would be a good time to do that serious thinking about things that I’ve been putting off for awhile.” And also, “Chicken soup…must…have…more…chicken soup…!” Just kidding. But seriously, I was able to spend a lot of time reading and praying and thinking, time that I would have definitely felt guilty using solely for those pursuits had I been healthy. Part of me wonders if perhaps that was part of the purpose for this, because God had some soul-stuff He wanted me to deal with, and sometimes the best way to make me slow down and pay attention is to lie me flat on my back. Not necessarily the way that I’d choose, but hey. Who am I to say?
A friend sends me a Scripture verse each day, mostly from Psalms, but sometimes from elsewhere in the Bible too. Last week (I think) one day was Psalm 46:1, “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.” That was so comforting to me; as my body was trying to rally its reserves, it was like God put His hand on me and said, “Peace. Remember.” And I could let go and let Him take care of me. It goes along with that whole vulnerability thing again. It is very difficult for me to let someone take care of me. It’s probably just pride, but I like to be able to take care of myself, and not have to ask for help. But I now found myself in a position where I could not do anything for myself. I felt as though God whispered to my heart, “I created you, I know you intimately. Let me care for you.” And it is hard to explain, but I felt such a peace enter my heart, I drifted off to sleep, and slept the entire night long. Which, anyone who knows me knows this, sleeping an entire night is not a usual occurrence for me.
The following day, I started to feel better. That was the turning point.
The next day, I received another verse, which made me smile. This verse has been a “life-verse” of sorts for me; ever since late high school, God, through it, has given me hope and encouragement, and it did the same that day. Psalm 138:8, “The LORD will fulfill His purpose for me; Your love, O LORD, endures forever—do not abandon the works of Your hands.” I was being worked over in my mind…a lot of things that I hadn’t even realized were bothering came to the surface. A dear friend had stopped by to see how I was doing, and as I talked to her, I started sobbing, not even knowing where it was coming from, deep, racking sobs, and babbling out about this and that; I get very emotional when I get sick, and I think that had something to do with it, but I also have a tendency to push things down and not deal with them, so maybe this was months of undealt-with stuff? All I know, as I crawled back to my room and into my bed, was that my heart hurt more than my head, and now I felt like I had opened a can a worms, a can that I didn’t have the strength to deal with right now. I half-deliriously checked my email, and saw that verse, and started crying again, this time tears of gratitude. It felt like a hug from Jesus, and in that one sentence, I saw, in fast-motion, the pain and travail, and yet His overwhelming comfort and faithfulness, through the years. Exhausted yet again, but with some deep, soul-strength, I slept for a bit, the sleep of a person purged of energy by tears and sickness, but comforted beyond description by the Living Word.
One of my new favorite people lent me a book called, “The Places that Scare You”, and I can’t put it down, it seems to just speak to me. Here are some nuggets of goodness from it:
“We can let the circumstances of our lives harden us so that we become increasingly resentful or afraid, or we can let them soften us and make us kinder and more open to what scares us.”
Hard to do. Hard to take in. But essentially what the essence of forgiveness is. It is saying, “Yes, you hurt me. But I forgive you that debt. I won’t let what happened between us make me an unkind or uncompassionate person, rather, I will let the pain of the experience soften me and I release you from any debt that I feel you owe me, because really, if I take an honest look at myself, are there not many debts that I owe others? And have I not been shown enormous amounts of compassion in my life, not only from those in my life, but most from Christ?”
Easy to put into words, harder for me to live from my heart.
I laughed in recognition when I read, “Many of us prefer practices that will not cause discomfort, yet at the same time, we want to be healed.” So true. “We can try to control the uncontrollable by looking for security and predictability, always hoping to be comfortable and safe. But the truth is that we can never avoid uncertainty. This not knowing is part of the adventure, and it’s also what makes us afraid.”
Uh, yup. Word up, book.:)
More: “It is our capacity to relax with not knowing, not figuring everything out, with not being at all sure about who we are—or who anyone else is either.” I like this, “To relax with not knowing…”for someone who likes to have her ducks in a row, this is an interesting perspective.
“God doesn't give you the people you want, He gives you the people you NEED.
To help you, to hurt you, to leave you, to love you and to make you into the
person you were meant to be.”
“A fresh attitude starts to happen when we look to see that yesterday was yesterday, and now it is gone; today is today, and now it is new. It is like that—every hour, every minute is changing. If we stop observing change, then we stop seeing everything as new.” ~ Dzigar Kongtrul Rinpoche
One of the biggest things that came from this time of inactivity for me was an overwhelming sense of thankfulness for the people in my life, for the opportunities I’ve been given, for everything. When the antibiotics started kicking in, I spent a good amount of time thanking God for making azithromycin. I was grateful with a capital G. In all seriousness, though, I was brought to my knees in gratitude for the love that surrounds me; friends whom I am so so blessed to have in my life; friends who have stuck by me in all seasons of life; friends both old and new; I would not be where I am today if it weren’t for them. As I went through them all, one by one in my head, in utter thankfulness and heart-swelling gratitude, I prayed that God would allow me to be at least a bit of the blessing to them all that they’ve been to me. Sometimes words fail us; they don’t go nearly far enough, deep enough, or wide enough to encompass an emotional experience, but if you are my friend and you are reading this, please accept my deep thanks and love for your presence in my life, and know how precious you are to me. I don’t know what it was that brought all this up, but I was just overwhelmed by the blessings in my life, and thankful to the Giver of gifts for blessing me with them. It really does bring tears to my eyes as I write this to think of all of the good in my life, and how blessed, how completely and utterly blessed, I am. I’ll end this now; I’ll wrap it up with a quote I found at the end of a book I just finished which, I think, says pretty much everything I want to say:
“In the end, though, maybe we must all give up trying to pay back the people in this world who sustain our lives. In the end, maybe it’s wiser to surrender before the miraculous scope of human generosity and to just keep saying thank you, forever and sincerely, for as long as we have voices.” –E.G.
