This summer, I’ve had alot of things appear in the middle of night.
Little, wiggling boys sans clothes and underwear. Phone calls with urgent requests. Mosquitoes the size of pterodactyls. Grown men yelling threats. Fearful preteen boys begging to hide deep under my blankets.
Following a summer filled with unexpected increases to family size, instant explosion of activity, midnight break-ins, death threats, restraining orders, general melee, church twists, layoffs, personal quests, and more… I should have known this would also sneak in late at night.
Swine Flu. My new friend.
The past few weeks have been rough: Hacking. Hurling. Hurting.
Yet with all of its global pandemic horror, swine flu has its pleasures.
Certainly there are better ways to bring calm to chaos, and certainly more preferred methods of weight loss, but this flu of the century has been a gift: a disguised, dreaded, exhausting, fearsome, and strange gift.
This week, Toby has become Mr. Mom, and I have found myself sequestered at home, still, slowed down to a snail’s pace. In this quiet place, I’ve had time to think, write, pray, and listen as God whispers into the stillness.
2009 has not been the year that was expected or hoped for. Nevertheless, I see God working in the minutia of my life, pulling on threads woven years ago, and inserting new fibers of strength, beauty and promise. He’s creating something in me. I can’t quite see it clearly right now; I don’t know that I want to. But, I know he has good things in store for my home, my family, and my purpose.
In the meantime, I’ll continue lying here… savoring the gift of stillness… and swine flu.
you are the only person i know who could see a blessing in swine flu. you’re an inspiration to me. bring on the stillness, the God whispers, the weaving of beautiful life tapestries, but i’ll pass on the flu. hopefully.
do hope you recover quickly my friend.
Years ago, when my three were wee, I remember the first feelings of being sick and the immediate panic that would follow. I mean, no one could fill my shoes and/or socks. Then Dad would call my mom. She was 154 miles away but always kept an overnight bag packed. Granny would arrive within three hours and fifteen minutes. In another half hour, I had reverted to her baby daughter and was confident that she’d take care of anything that might arise with my illness or any prank of Toby’s. Granny would stay as long as needed and everyone hated to see me get well because that meant that Granny would head north again – back to her VFW dances!
Enjoy your illness. Toby might not manage the house just as you would, but they will all survive and they will appreciate you even more…