Being sick is no fun. It is the opposite of fun. A sick day is a bad day.
Welcome to a bad day. Bad couple of days, actually. I’m sick. Just sick enough to make my life completely miserable.
But compared to past sickly experiences, this is nothing.
*Warning: There will be barf.*
The earliest sick day I remember happened out of nowhere in a supermarket with my mom, where I barfed on the tile floor next to the frozen foods. My mom was pretty mad and embarrassed. It was a big mess too. All over the place.
As a kid, I seemed to get sick a lot. Like, flu sick… a lot. It had become so routine that my sickness even began to follow a pattern. I would start getting a stomach ache, I would cramp up for about 15 minutes, at which point I would hurl, and then for about 12 minutes, I would feel relief. Then, the process would start over. This would happen exactly the same way every half hour for the whole day.
I was like Ol’ Faithful. You could set your watch to me.
It got very tiring.
But, by far, the worst sickly experiences are when you are away from home. Not only do you feel like death, you don’t even have the comfort of familiar surroundings.
Once, I was in Indianapolis with my parents, who were down to visit my grandparents. Same kind of puke fest, but I had to stay in the hotel by myself for all day because my parents had to go visit my grandparents. The trip cost a couple thousand dollars, they couldn’t afford to waste it.
However, that was nothing compared to the All-State Choir puke of Oh-Three. By far, my least favorite sick day of all time.
All-State Choir was held in Albuquerque, and this was day two, the day before the concert. I woke up, feeling a little tired, but that night was my night to sleep on the floor, so it was to be expected.
I went downstairs and wasn’t very hungry, but my choir director made me eat. So, I muscled down a piece of toast and everyone hopped on the bus.
Halfway through the bus ride, I felt the toast stop, turn around, and try to exit out the way it came in. I hollered for the trash can. All I had in my stomach was the one tiny piece of toast, but somewhere inside me, it tripled in size! There was a LOT of substance to that hurl.
Sorry. It’s gross, I know.
So, I was stuck in my hotel room for the whole day until my parents finally got there late that night to pick me up.
I was puking every half hour like normal. A sponsor took care of me all day. She was really nice. She also had to take care of the bus driver, who caught the sickness from me a little later. It was bad. That flu wound up spreading to about half the choir by the trips end.
Currently, I have bronchitis. My whole body aches from the deep, painful coughing. I’ve got huge piles of used tissues all over the house. At any given moment, there are three different medications waging war in my body.
Yesterday was by far the worst day, and I had to work most of the day. Including delivering the message at Celebrate Recovery, because the sickness hit far too late to pass the duty to someone else.
I was hanging in there all day, taking breaks and naps when I could. Then, as our service started with some praise and worship, I felt all the life drain out of me. I was done. I couldn’t do it.
But then… I did it.
And I know it wasn’t me. I know the Spirit held me up, delivered the message through me. I remember thinking during the message, “Man, I feel really good right now.” And when the message was over, I was ready to die again.
One of my favorite Bible verses is talking about some of the things the Spirit does for us.
In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. –Romans 8:26
I’ve done a lot of groaning in my life. I’ve had a lot of prayers where all I did was sigh or cry. And my weaknesses come in far more forms than sick days.
Praise God that he knows we’re weak and decides to use us anyway!