That is to say, I wish I did not have continuous headaches, I wish I did not have a sore throat and earache 6 out of 10 days. I wish I didn’t feel like I was burning right under my skin down to my bones on the worse days. Like a huge elastic band snapped back and stung all over on the better days.
I wish I didn’t have lower back pain, shoulder and neck pain and I wish I didn’t have sharp pains in random places and I wish I wasn’t exhausted and feverish-feeling all the time. I wish stirring porridge and mashing potatoes and lifting children and fastening seat belts and sitting and standing up and not lying in bed all day with a hot water bottle didn’t hurt and exhaust me quite so much.
I wish I didn’t have muscles that tell me I have an infection that really is just a figment of their imagination. Who knew muscles had an imagination?
I wish that even though I do have those things, I didn’t have the depressing feeling of not being able to accomplish anything, the looming future before me, scared of having to go through the days and more days and then after that still more days.
I wish I could lie in bed without my finger hurting because it touches the sheet. As it so happens, when you lie down, a lot of body parts touch the sheets and I don’t suppose I could fall asleep floating above my bed.
At the very least, it would be nice to have an actual fever and then get better, as opposed to feeling feverish each and every day without ever having a true fever and without ever getting better.
However, I do.
Maybe someday I will feel better, but right now I don’t. I have asked God to heal me and I have also asked Him not to heal me if this is the way to purify me and if this will make me more graceful, merciful, kind, loving, forgiving. Because even more than feeling healthy and having energy, I want to be those things.
And if God in His all knowing wisdom knows that being sick and being in pain will make me more like Him, then being healthy and capable of doing all sorts of things for Him would, then please, let me not grumble and cry out and beg Him to make it stop.
So I will trust Him because He know best. And if this is best for me, then so be it.
Regardless of what gifts He gives me, I want to praise His name. I want to praise it in sickness and health, in good feelings and bad feelings.
Regardless of whether the gifts He gives me are fun and exciting or heavy and wearying, I want to praise His name and follow.
Because I love Him no matter what, and I will love Him no matter what.
In other words, I will not desperately wish anymore that I might break my two legs so that I can have me several weeks of forced bedrest. I will try not to, at any rate. (And really, even an appendicitis would do)
Because more, always more, I will wish for Him, long for Him. Long for His love to be deeply ingrained in my words and actions and thoughts and motivations.