Being sick is humbling.

Being sick is always a humbling experience, and for that, I am grateful. Weird, huh? But it's true. When I am sick, I am always forced to slow down. Lay down. Relax. Except...I hate relaxing. Unless I am daydreaming or in need of a nap, I hate just lying there doing nothing. Being sick, weak, and in pain is the perfect reminder that I don't have control over everything.

Of course for my stubborn self, being sick also seems to be the perfect motivation to get more done. For example, on Saturday night I decided I wanted to make homemade granola. Even though my entire body craved peace and rest, I prepared and baked that granola non-stop. Afterward I cleaned up the mess I had made without second thought (hallelujah!) and I even cleaned the pantry. I know. What a freak. I would have washed the dishes too if my mom had let me...

Unfortunately, I did have to miss out on Stake Conference because of this. Sunday morning I woke up feeling extra weak but determined to at least watch the live broadcast of the conference at my local church building. I thought there wouldn't be many people, but the place was packed! I sunk into my seat hoping to be able to keep my illness to myself for the whole two hours. I succeeded, and though towards the end it became more difficult to sit still, being able to feel the Spirit in such a special way was worth it. Always worth it.




And what a beautiful day it was! Since it was freezing inside the chapel (as it always seems to be), I walked straight out of there craving nothing but the sun and its warmth. The moment I realized I was out in full sunlight and actually enjoying it, I knew this whole being-sick deal was something special to learn from. On the way home all I craved was a warm bed to nap on, and I promise, though it might sound crazy, I entered my room and frantically delighted in every passing second for the next half hour. I snuggled in my bed as if I had never snuggled in a bed before. I snapped pictures and scribbled hurriedly in my thought journal everything I could feel so I wouldn't forget. I simply felt joyful.

How is it that we can feel full of light when everything should be darkness and distress? I only attribute it to the Light of Christ. The beautiful, simple knowledge of things as they really are. I am grateful for a body that fights to heal itself, and I am grateful for a spirit that is bound, through faith, to rest in due time in the celestial mansions of a loving Heavenly Father.

 I am grateful for sleepy, sickly eyes; for an aching chest and a sore throat. I am grateful for darkness in contrast with warmth and light. I am grateful for people who feel the same kinds of things that I do, and longingly try to explain it all in words during simple but powerful church meetings. I am grateful to be a witness and participant of the miracles of this life.