After a 3-day delay in Austin, Texas earlier this week due to 15" of rain in 7-hours, and some fried flight tower electronics, I (Christine) got home to get sick. All the stress, frustration, tension, and processing I did to hold it together spent me. My body quite literally gave up and said, "No more."
I hate landing on my back like that. It makes me feel weak and helpless, because it makes me weak and helpless. And I love my strength -- it's a great gift, and also a great defense mechanism to avoid tending to my own needs. I believe, in the moment, I have no needs. Which is utterly false, but I need to believe it when I'm in that mental state. Occasionally Jesus lets me get away with it, for a little while. This time my body tapped out, and I surrendered. It was painful.
And then as I started to feel better bit by bit I found the temptation to jump back in (I can be really stubborn), but this thought stopped me in my tracks: I may be healed, but there is the after affect of recovery. The siege on my nasal cavity has ended, but now is the phase after the party once all the guests are gone: the clean up. I'm still not operating at 100%, my body still needs rest.
I'm now being invited to recover, now that the healing is done. I'm being invited into a physical therapy of sorts -- both in my body, and in my soul. And it's odd to me, but so true, how my body leads me to see what Jesus may be inviting me to internally: recovery.
It's an oddly beautiful little miracle: Jesus used my weakness to show me his kindness. He's not the one demanding me to get back on the path. He's the one inviting me to linger a little while longer in stillness and rest.
Invitation to Reflect
Take a moment and settle into your seat. Breathe deeply.