I’m sick.

I have some small bacterial thing for which I am receiving prayer and an antibiotic from people who care about me and care for me and know what they are doing. The people around me that I feel responsible to are telling me to take care of myself, to trust them to care care of other things. Kids, spouse, boss, colleagues, friends.

So after a full week and a busy weekend, I stayed home Monday as a sick day. I slept through most of the morning. The antibiotic began to work. And so, by 11 am I was awake, not feeling awful. (Completely different than when I stay home with a migraine.)

And it was about then that I discovered that I was sick.

I discovered that on this day with permission from everyone to stay home and rest, with doctor’s orders to rest, with all the permission I could imagine and more mandates than I like to stay home and rest, I could not stop. I worked on some stuff for a meeting that night. I was antsy, twitchy. I was addicted to the need for some activity. I had a nagging sense that I needed to accomplish something, to make this time at home worthwhile.

I should read something important. I should pray for the many people I know with real concerns. I should go back to sleep, since that counts as acceptable activity when sick (“I just couldn’t keep my eyes open,” he said apologetically to the important book.)

What I discovered is that I am sick. What I discovered is that I am afraid of irrelevance, of being not needed. What I discovered is lies about significance that I tell myself. What I discovered is that my soul continues to needs a Healer.  And that I need sabbath.

For 7×7, see 3.21.12

4 thoughts on “I’m sick.

  1. cjhinx

    For women this is often referred to as the need to be needed. As someone who has dealt with debilitating health issues and is now dealing with an empty nest, I understand this need completely. It has made me much more understanding to those who are shut-ins who also need to be needed.


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