Grouch No More

Here’s the real miracle: Not that I don’t get sick but that sickness doesn’t get me.

I’ve always tried to face it with humor, but the protective barricades were weak. Thus, I’ve done my best to hide away when ill because I was never fit company for anyone else. Someone trying to play the attentive nursemaid risked my wrath, and my talent for verbal abuse can be really quite substantial, I sadly admit.

In my effort to pray for the next mission in my life, I asked frequently for a softer demeanor. Having a divine calling as a loner need not include a prickly exterior. The whole idea was to avoid making unreasonable demands of others, even while asserting that solitude is a very reasonable choice. If I can’t get away from them, let me at least be more tolerable, O Lord, so that faith shines through.

I am grateful that God’s mercy has reduced my susceptibility to common seasonal sickness, but He never promised there would be none. He designed viruses, too. In previous generations I’d have been long dead from one or more of my various genetic predispositions to infections of various kinds. As a child it was frequent ear infections; as an adult it’s my sinuses taking great delight in sealing up against all efforts at relief and growing bacteria. I’ve gotten better at defeating that using fairly benign means, but none of them are foolproof.

This time through, I’ve managed to keep that at bay. However, this is a tough virus with a long lifespan. My heart told me this was all God’s good training for the mission. In previous times, I would not have been able to accept, much less hear such a message. So instead of grouching, I’m worshiping and longing for a nice walk in the woods.

And that I am able to focus long enough to write this should indicate I’m starting to mend. It’s slow, but His patience is enough for me.