Friday, July 27, 2012


Sitting in a chair, I feel some sickness going rampage through my body and I want to deny it.

We go away for a few days and I long to be better, at least more energetic.

The Boy asks to spend time on the beach and I take a pass. It isn't like me to miss out on the water and sand. But rest is what I know my body needs most.

I see the sunshine through the trees and it calls me. I'm freezing yet I do not have the energy to move.

Whatever virus I have will soon pass. I'll be back to running in no time and my strength will return.

For now, this sickness keeps me grounded and noticing things. the sunshine and how it shows up through the trees.

...and the laughter of The Boy. And how he worries for his Momma without having that worried look, but rather his incessant asking if I'll do something with him, as a pulse-taking exercise of sorts.

Beyond my sight there's purpose in this slowing down. It's to heal and recover. But it's also so much more than that, I know it.

Today's post is part of my friend, Lisa-Jo's fun challenge each Friday to 

     "Write for five, short, bold beautiful minutes... 
     Unscripted and unedited...
     Without worrying if it's just right or not."

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  1. With the right perspective, we can see even our illness as an opportunity to watch and learn. Lovely!

  2. What a breathtaking post - thanks for sharing.

  3. "Beyond my sight there's purpose in this slowing down." Beautiful. Thank you for sharing. I love hopping over to your space. :)

  4. Ah - I feel with you the frustration of the desperate to be doing something else and your body preventing you, the being grounded (though it often feels like you're chained with a rock to keep you there...)

    I speak as someone with a long-term chronic illness. For 2 years, I was slowed down to the extent that I had to work part-time and rest much of the rest of the time, for 3 further years I was forced to use a wheelchair for walking distances greater than 200 metres, then for the past couple of years I have been housebound by the illness. It's true - the sunlight suddenly becomes much more valuable, the sounds of children and singing birds all the more precious. That's not to say that I wouldn't choose in a milisecond to be rid of this rubbish illness, but slowing down does do - something - as you say...

    Much love and empathy. xx

    1. Tanya, your note brings me to my knees. I think of Laura Story's song, Blessings, and how He has purpose even for these times that you've experienced. You sense it, and I pray you continual peace. Might each moment draw you ever closer to His heart.

  5. Awesome. Funny how kids keep asking until they feel things are 'back to normal'.

    1. The language they speak is so interesting, for sure.