This past Tuesday was our church’s annual meeting. It was going well for all concerned, until the halfway mark.
At which point I began to turn grey (so a few witnesses said) and shake uncontrollably (that I noticed myself). No, I was not demon-possessed, I was sick. The nasty flu going around apparently saw the big neon sign I didn’t know I was taped to my back that said, “PICK ME, PICK ME!” (Here I thought it said, KICK ME). I’ll check more closely next time.
I went home early, shivering the whole way. I spent the evening lying in bed with my pants, socks, a shirt and a sweater on… under a sheet and two blankets, with a heating pad. I was literally on my back until just this morning. Fever for two days, migraine for the three days following, aching, dizzy… Ugh.
No, it’s okay. It was my turn. I’m not immune. I did my time. I did a whole lot of sleeping, a whole lot of tossing and turning, moaning, muttering, nose-blowing, hacking, movie watching, med using, hallucinatory dreaming, video gaming when my eyes didn’t hurt, and some praying.
This morning I was awakened by Shauna’s alarm clock. It was set to a local radio station and the moment it barked at us this morning it reminded me of something I did not do this whole week. The words said, “Every blessing you pour out, I’ll turn back to praise… when the darkness closes in Lord, still I will say… Blessed be the name of the Lord, blessed be your name…”
No, not oops. Major oversight, lack of focus… and to use a politically incorrect word… sin. Sorry, God. I want to be one of those people who bless your name (and your heart) no matter how I’m feeling. I’ve got some serious growing up to do.