On both and personal and professional level, this term of school cannot be over soon enough.
Wednesday I woke up with a migraine headache. These headaches for me are the worst, because they tend to come with a sensitivity to light that I find really annoying. What I should have been doing a better job paying attention to is the reminder that they are also usually the harbinger of something worse to come. I stayed home from school in the morning to rest and shake it off, but then went about my night at Veritas once my head cleared up. Toward the end of Veritas, wherein we had our sex talk Q and A, meaning I was speaking loudly and quickly for most of the night, I had a sore throat. Again, thought nothing of it. I had just worn my voice out, right?
By Thursday it was clear that I was getting a cold, but I play through the pain. So I went to school (also, with what follows in this story, super sorry to anyone who I infected!) and went about my day. As the day wore on, the sore throat was getting worse and worse and worse, to the point that I couldn't even really swallow coffee or tea. I resolved (read: was told by my wife that I absolutely had) to go to the doctors. At this point, I was certain I had strep throat, a near death sentence to the father of 3 month old twins.
But no! Because I am a unique animal, I have to go and find the weird diseases. I who am a surviver of the dreaded swine flu (remember that?), I must blaze a more impressive trail. The doctor told me that I had pharyngitis, which is a virus wherein the skin cells in your throat are eroded away. She said "Think of it as like a brush burn, but in your entire throat."
I'd rather not think of it that way doc, thanks...
So it was home and time for bed rest. I couldn't be around the boys too much, because this sucker's contagious, and it would be hell for their little throats to endure such pain. I couldn't go to school. I couldn't go to work. I just sat in bed for three whole days, trying to remember what it was like to be able to eat solid foods without pain.
Now none of what proceeded was a "feel sorry for me" post. In fact, what I found to be so surprising through all of this was how much I felt sorry for myself. I was worried what people would think of me at school or at work, how I had been missing so much lately with the illness and the death of my pap shortly before that. Would they label me a slacker? Would I be able to keep up with my work? Would the kids still respect their youth pastor if he wasn't around? Would church go on without me? (Ok, that last one was really melodramatic...like God needs me to show up so that he can be praised) But still, my concerns weren't for myself, but they were for what people thought of me.
This is leading into a sermon someone handsome is giving in church on Sunday (supposing he can speak without sounding like a 90 year old chain smoker) about earning our worth. I think sadly due to our culture, it's wired into our DNA. We want to earn. We want to be able to prove ourselves worthy. We want others to like us for our work ethic. And there's not a whole lot bad about that, except when it comes to A) times in our lives where we are incapable of getting things done (i.e. crazy throat sickness times) or B) when it comes to our relationship with God. Because when we start to trick ourselves into believing that we can earn God's favor on our own merit, then we're even sicker than I've been lately.
More to come,