three more down...

The illness (or it’s cousin) that has plagued Little Leighton (LL) and TLC for over three weeks has three more of us down. I got sick Tuesday—while helping TLC and LL try to navigate through their illnesses. TLC’s Hubby and My Sweet Hubby (MSH) both came down with it Friday. MSH seems to be the third sickest of the five of us—after LL and TLC. I, fortunately, had rough days Wednesday and Thursday, but I’ve been recovering steadily since Friday.

To add to the yucky-ickiness of this cold/flu-ish/congestion-y stuff we all have, the weather in North Central Texas has been charm-free since the beginning of the week. In fact, it’s been bitter cold. Windy. We realize, from the news’ reports, that we haven’t had it nearly as bad as many, many other States in America. For that we are grateful.

This morning, MSH and I woke up to sleety/rainy/foggy-ish/misty-ish precip. We found ourselves flashbacking to the first week in December last year when this part of the world had a horrible ice storm—one that paralyzed millions of us for many, many days. Yikes.

If we can (ever) truly trust our TV weather peeps, this will move out by Wednesday. Don’t get me wrong: We Texans don’t mind some cold weather. It certainly helps us get in the mood for the holidays! What we don’t like is: (1) To be sick with endless congestion, sore throats, scary coughs, headaches and general, overall pain; and (2) Ice. Sleet. Treacherous roads and the possibility of losing our electricity.

I’ve asked myself about six times since 5:30 a.m. what day this is. One loses track of time when one's been in a house for approximately 88 hours. Since it’s apparently (hopefully) Sunday, I thought a lovely prayer might be appropriate and helpful. I have several books of prayers that I read from every day. The following prayer comes from a sweet little book entitled: Praying Through the Tough Times. By Lloyd John Ogilvie.

Christ,

I cry out to You in times of physical pain. Bones ache, joints swell, nerves twitch with pulsating waves of pain. You know all about what I endure. It doesn’t even compare with the anguish of Your suffering. But what I’m feeling is mine, in my body. I can’t take it without the healing touch of Your hand. I yield my pain to You. Please, Lord, take it away, or give me the power to survive the devastating cause of it. I breathe out the pain and breathe in Your Spirit. Thank You for calming my panic.

I think of the time when four men tore a hole in the roof of a house in Capernaum where You were teaching. They lowered down a stretcher with their friend on it. Their deepest desire was to put the man face-to-face with You. I picture the moment his eyes met Yours and You reached out to touch and heal him.

I imagine myself on that stretcher being lowered down before You. Now I look into Your face: wondrous love! I look into Your eyes: compassion, empathy, merciful care. And then I feel the healing hand. It’s warm, tender, yet strong and powerful. I feel the surge of Your Spirit enter every facet of my being.

Lord, You are the Healer; You use medicine and doctors and nurses; You work through caregivers. And now I praise You that most of all You give Your healing touch when I need it so much! Amen.

From ELC:

Thank You, Dear Lord God Almighty, for over-the-counter meds! For doctors and nurses that help us decide what OTC and/or prescription medications might cure us. Doctors and nurses that care for us with kind concern. Thank You, Lord, for family members that give us the attention we require! That fix us hot tea or an icy cold drink. That retrieve and dispense our ibuprofen when it’s time. That keep our homes quiet when we’re napping. That fix us chicken soup and ask us every couple of hours if we’re any better. Thank You, God, for recovery—even though sometimes it sure seems like it’s occurring terribly and miserably S…L…O...W. Amen.

Hope each and every one of Y’all are having a healthy and HAPPY Sunday…Wherever in the World Y’all Are…

(Air) Kisses and (At-arms’-length) Hugs