On Eating Vanilla Yogurt and Watching the Sun Set
I am not going to say I like being sick. Or even that I don't mind being sick. I hate being sick.
I hate the bruises on my ankles, and the way I am losing weight, and the pain. I hate that I can't stand on my own two feet for more than five minutes and that I sleep until 11 o'clock each day like an infant who has just come into the world.
A really good spiritual sport would say, "When I am weak, then He is strong." And that would be true of course. She might pretend that she could be sick just about forever, and that would be cool with her. But I would prefer to say, just now, that I hate being sick, and I am glad that all of this will supposedly be gone in six weeks' time.
This late morning when my daughter brought me my new "regular," yogurt with a generous dollop of strawberry jam, I noticed a difference. She must have used vanilla yogurt instead of plain. She must have used the yogurt my friend purchased (a different brand).
I ate the yogurt very slowly. It was delicious. Vanilla, in a way my own brand is not vanilla. It occurred to me that if I hadn't been sick my friend wouldn't have gone shopping for me. I wouldn't be tasting this yogurt. Maybe ever. It reminded me of the sunsets I've been seeing from my bedroom window. Usually at sunset time I am downstairs cooking or cleaning.
None of this makes me want to say I don't mind being sick. The world was made for peace and so was I, and when that peace is broken by pain, something deep within me cries, "No!"
But I will say that grace is a sneaky and resilient thing. It can find its way into our bowls and through our windows, bringing us a measure of peace to which we can say, "Yes."
I hate the bruises on my ankles, and the way I am losing weight, and the pain. I hate that I can't stand on my own two feet for more than five minutes and that I sleep until 11 o'clock each day like an infant who has just come into the world.
A really good spiritual sport would say, "When I am weak, then He is strong." And that would be true of course. She might pretend that she could be sick just about forever, and that would be cool with her. But I would prefer to say, just now, that I hate being sick, and I am glad that all of this will supposedly be gone in six weeks' time.
This late morning when my daughter brought me my new "regular," yogurt with a generous dollop of strawberry jam, I noticed a difference. She must have used vanilla yogurt instead of plain. She must have used the yogurt my friend purchased (a different brand).
I ate the yogurt very slowly. It was delicious. Vanilla, in a way my own brand is not vanilla. It occurred to me that if I hadn't been sick my friend wouldn't have gone shopping for me. I wouldn't be tasting this yogurt. Maybe ever. It reminded me of the sunsets I've been seeing from my bedroom window. Usually at sunset time I am downstairs cooking or cleaning.
None of this makes me want to say I don't mind being sick. The world was made for peace and so was I, and when that peace is broken by pain, something deep within me cries, "No!"
But I will say that grace is a sneaky and resilient thing. It can find its way into our bowls and through our windows, bringing us a measure of peace to which we can say, "Yes."
Labels: family, spiritual reflection
posted by L.L. Barkat at
11:13 AM
14 Comments:
Thinking of you, and wishing a speedier recovery.
"grace is a sneaky and resilient thing" - Yes, yes it is. May you not forget these graces when you're recovered!
How serious is this illness? I know you're a private person, but I'm beginning to get truly concerned.
Grace is indeed a sneaky thing, especially when we're weak. I pray you get well soon :)
Thank you all for your kind thoughts.
Solveig, the doctor says it is an ordinary virus that sometimes has no symptoms, but in me it did. Quite roughly! But each day I feel a little bit better. Still, it's supposed to be a 6-week recovery, which I suppose means I am going to keep feeling this sense of two steps forward, one step back. I do hesitate to share, but some of the things that come to me seem worth saying out loud. Thank you for listening.
Thank you for sharing so we can pray for you...be restful...be at peace... and be well very soon.
That is the greatness of grace, that it is so overwhelmingly good that even the chaos and pain of undeniable suffering is somehow enriching. And the more un-ignorable the suffering, the more awe-inspiring God's ability to shape more astonishing good than anything is evil. {{{hug}}} I sorrow for your pain and rejoice with you in our Creator.
Oh L.L., you will be wrapped in lots of prayers whilst you sleep in till 11 o'clock.
Blessings (and prayers).
Nothing profound from me.
I just smiled right along reading this.
A prayer for healing and recovery for my friend.
He is in the midst of it with us, isn't He?
Ahh...from the aching pain of this illness you will be uniquely able to comfort those who experience pain that lingers...may The GOD of all comfort and mercy touch you with healing
I'm so pleased this isn't overly serious--although six weeks could seem long. I just pray God will shower you with His grace--that in the midst of the frustration, this will become a time of blessings. He can actually do that sort of thing! Blessings.
Great post! I love how you always seem to see things differently.
~Jessica
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