I had every intention of writing this week. But, as they say, the best laid plans of mice and men…
Tuesday night I came down with a stomach bug or food poisoning…something that knocked me on my butt. That meant Wednesday was spent at home recovering. I thought perhaps I could write while in this state, but quickly realized that I couldn’t sit up for very long. Instead, I spent the day prostate and learning new things like that ginger is good when you’re sick because it creates a bacteria-burning fever-like state and that Drew Carey now hosts The Price is Right (I had no idea).
Perhaps the greatest accomplishment of the day, though, was that I fell more in love with God. When my body was uncomfortable or my mind uneasy at what I could not accomplish in the illness, I reached out in faith to my Father and took hold of His comfort. I imagined Him holding me, rubbing my back, and smoothing my hair. The relief was palpable. I realized that hitherto I had grasped to a degree His comfort but only as it pertained to spiritual, emotional, or relational matters. But yesterday I witnessed His care for even our physical selves, His desire to take care of my weak body.
And this is what made me trust and love Him more — I saw another dimension, another level of His crazy love for us. We love because He first loved us, and yesterday He showed me yet another way in which He loves me.
I certainly don’t enjoy being sick, but this time around it came with a silver lining I wouldn’t trade for anything.