I left something out of yesterday’s post in regards to being sick. Well, two things actually.

First is that I am not a “good” sick person. By that I mean, after about 4 hours, I’m ready to do myself in. Obviously not too seriously as I’m still here…but mentally, I’m done. I’m begging, pleading, crying out to God to end my “misery.” I’m mentally able to continue on in my illness because I know there will be an end to it, usually within the day if not sooner.

Just ask any of my former roommates (and there’s about 10 of them, so take your pick!) If the cold or the flu went longer than a day or two, I was fairly emphatic that I would forever be in this state of illness, regardless of how terribly unrealistic that view was. It was all about how I felt in the moment. I would be abundantly thankful that God had not chosen me to be one who dealt with chronic pain of any kind because I just could not see myself managing a life around something like that. I lived with friends who had chronic pains of one kind or another and I still do not know how they did it!

However, and this is the second thing I left out, Friday I experienced illness with a completely different perspective. I was still miserable, don’t get me wrong. But my thoughts went to far different places than they typically do. I could no longer allow myself to think that my world should end because of the pains in my gut or the pounding in my head.

That’s because of a woman named Rachel and a book called “The Hole in Our Gospel”.

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