I’m having a poorly week. Lungs infected again and this time it’s hit me pretty hard. For nearly 4 days I’ve hardly been able to crawl out of bed, though I made it downstairs last night in a somewhat jelly like state. What it did mean is that I couldn’t do anything on the To Do list I’d been stressing over at the end of last week, and had to leave things be.
Now, at first, this frustrates me greatly. I am far too much an activist to be ill, and yet I’m ill so much you’d have thought I’d have learned by now to sit back and be graceful and lovely or something. But instead I mutter and annoy Tim about the mess downstairs and the to do pile. That is unless it’s a really bad day, in which case I’ll say nothing at all and give him some peace 😉
This time however, I’ve found something different. I found I could connect with God again. How does this work? In the last few weeks I’ve been busy but praying, but finding God’s presence just…well, wasn’t there. Or was, but not anywhere I could find it. Even in the asking. But it’s when I get really poorly I finally find what I have been searching for. Just gently, just whispers, senses, something changing in the atmosphere, and suddenly I know it. God’s with me.
Now, I know, of course, that this is always the case, but let’s face it, it’s not something that’s always tangible. So here’s the question: Why is it that it’s in the time of the most suffering that God reveals Godself more tangibly? God could just heal me, or something, but instead there’s this amazing grace, this gentle love, this awesome presence weaving through my pain. I almost think these times are a gift in some way.
Now, this doesn’t happen every time I’m ill, don’t get me wrong. There will be those times I just feel devoid of it all and wonder where God is anyway and grumble and feel generally sorry for myself. But just occasionally there is this grace, if I allow it. And it’s pretty good.
So where does that leave me? Is being poorly better than being well? Is being better than doing? Well….hmmmm. No, being ill is not better. I’d have happy lungs if I could. But I think we could all do well to stop sometimes. To slow down and be, and let God find us in that vulnerability and lack of activism.
When I get better and get up will I remember this? Maybe. Or maybe I’ll start stressing about my to do list. There must be a balance somewhere, I feel…
Hi Liz, just noticed that you have visited my blog and we are on the same 'Great Adventure'. I have had my lung condition for 65 of my 66 years and still going, if not strong, still going!
The time when I was raising my family was the hardest but that passes and with care you should come to a time when you can pay more attention to your own health.I believe we all need some inner core of strength to cope with life and I am glad you have found yours. Stay well. Carole