In Sickness unto Perfection

We have had quite the season of sickness in our house this season. I started towards the end of August where I was struggling with something called adrenal fatigue, a silly term just meaning that you body stops working correctly after prolonged periods of stress. Life never slowed down, then I found out I was pregnant, and then life become a string of a few gastrointestinal viruses, flu, and colds for each member of the family while I myself was battling first trimester nausea, anemia and all that jazz. 

Are you thinking poor us? I certainly was. 

After so many terrible nights with medicine in a different language and chills and barfing, I started to be a little annoyed, angry even. "Really God?" what next, but the hits just kept on coming. More days out more sickness. more NOTHING. 

more bitterness, more quiet anger seething below the surface, then I figured subduing the anger wasn't helping, so I told God what I thought of His plan of the last 3 months. Then that strong calm peaceful whisper asked. 

"Why are you really angry?"

"~um, because I am sick, well not really. There is nothing intrinsically wrong with sickness, umm...Because well, I want to, um do things for you, and I can't,  you know I want to serve you and stuff but all I can do is lay in bed.~"

So I was angry at the creator for allowing me to be sick because I wanted to love him better?

No. I was angry because I still only want to serve God MY WAY. the way that feels good TO ME, the way that I can slip small slivers of self righteous works based gratification in there. 

My purpose in the whole wide beautiful earth is to love God and enjoy Him forever, to be deeply satisfied in him that I can sing, that I can LIVE in His glory till the end of my days...

God's will and purpose for my existence can be done from a sick bed as well as any other place. 

I am always so very focused on the outward appearance, the Lord is always only after MY HEART. If He is most glorified when I am most satisfied in Him, then a spirit filled cancer patient singing hymns on his 9th round of chemo is amazingly and utterly pleasing to the Lord.

 Not some bitterness-harboring missionary mom.

He loves me so much, He is willing to watch me suffer, watch me sick, watch me rail against Him in horrid toddler like self righteous tantrums, that I may know Him more, commune with Him in the stillness of sickness. That I may learn to be content in all circumstances, acquainted with suffering, complete, not lacking anything. 

 References I Reference in this post: Philippians 3:10, James 1:4, 

Philippians 4:13, and Psalm 34, 1 Samuel 16:7