being sick

i have been stuck at home with bronchitis for the last full week.  i had no voice, i got my husband just as sick as me and we were both too weak to take care of the other.  it was a long week!  being sick like that is lonely.  especially in a new place like this.  to go a week with no conversation or people is like starvation to me.  the days stretched ever longer and looked continuously more bleak than the one previous. 

and i would love to say that i treated this time like a silent retreat (do you know, i actually always thought i would love such a thing?!  now i can’t imagine how i could possibly benefit; i would melt away until there was nothing left of me.  no human interaction=death to me!).  i would love to say that i read incredible books, thought deep thoughts and wrote inspiring letters to people.  alas, i focused on trying to breathe and watched movie after movie that did nothing to better me, but simply passed the hours.  

part of me feels frustrated with myself because i, of all people, should be good at being sick.  i’ve been sick for a 1/3 of my life!  from the summers of 99-09 i was constantly ill.  i caught everything ‘going around’ and almost everything not ‘going around.’  i never had a day with zero pain and often battled depression due to feeling like an old women in my twenties.  what started with a case of undiagnosed mono turned into a decade of unknown illness.  it wasn’t until 2009 when ray found a story of someone with celiac disease on the internet and i had a good doctor who pushed the gluten-free diet more than drugs that my life changed. 

the change has been glorious.  i feel like i have flown through the last two years of my life instead of crawling.  i live pain-free, have lost 50 pounds, and have energy to spare at the end of the day.  and while it’s sometimes hard to not always be able to eat what i want, it’s worth it to truly live. 

i don’t want to forget the last decade.  it forged me into someone different.  i understand patience differently.  i understand God’s plan for our lives often looks terribly different than what i want.  i understand long-term pain.  i understand being viewed as weak by others, but how that should not shape me.  these are valuable lessons.  and because of them i am desperate to be as full of joy as possible.  i have been given a second chance.  i have been given healing, which not everyone will receive on this earth. 

so when i get as sick as i have been this last week, i don’t dismay.  i feel terrible, yes, at having others pick up my slack and missing out on everyday life. but i know there’s hope.  i know there’s AN END.  for every lonely, silent minute of not being able to breathe, i know there are many more coming of joyful laughter.  and those minutes will be infinitely more beautiful to me because of missing them.

i’m not trying to say that i have joy only because i have healing.  i had to decide long ago that even if i died after years of pain that life was still worth living because i have the chance to know God.  indeed, much joy comes in mourning.  but since i have healing, let me never take health for granted.  let me never squander an opportunity to rejoice.