Thanksgiving from the Couch

There is truly nothing like being sick during the holidays. It started with a dry little cough at our wind ensemble concert on Tuesday night. Luckily I had a container of water which was guzzled in short order. But it wasn't over. The little tickle grew to a cough on Wednesday, when my whole family was coming over for Thanksgiving dinner. I plied myself with medicine, but the roar was there by the time I climbed into bed. I've now had two whole days of coughing up my lungs, and as luck would have it, all the doctors took off the day after Thanksgiving. Probably sleeping that tryptophan out of their systems. Meanwhile, I think I have either cracked or sprung my ribs out of their proper places. 

When sickness takes over the body, a whole lot goes out the window. I had two jobs today which didn't happen. I meant to call one of my clients about his listing, but he beat me to it because I was comatose in a big comfy chair. I needed to deliver paperwork and scan and send stuff. Didn't happen. I laid on the couch all day and all evening, watching reruns of What Not To Wear. As If I Care. Normally my numerous Christmas trees are decorated by now and we are cleaning up the bits of glitter and greenery that fall everywhere. But nope. I walked (staggered) the dog out tonight with my wild hair and no pants on and noticed that my neighbors have their decorations up. What is going to happen to us if I don't haul that paraphernalia out of the barn? You know how it is when you're sick -- you wonder if you'll ever do anything again. Am I the only one who gets mad for not appreciating life before, when I wasn't sick? I denounce myself for all the poundage that makes hauling this carcass off the couch that much harder. I'm gonna work on that before I get sick again, I am. 

Meanwhile, my grown kids and grandkids are all busy elsewhere with their lives tonight, Liz is gone for the evening and Ken retired early since he has to go to work before daybreak. Here I sit, alone, in my icky shirt, no pants, with seemingly busted ribs and no gumption to do anything but breathe in and out. If that. Makes me reckon about death. Because there will come a day that I won't be able to order my body to do anything and it will finally surrender itself to the gravity. People don't like to talk about it, but it's a huge fact that's going to happen to all of us. So on a night when I am feeling like that might just be a good thing, I am thinking of the Lord's goodness, of how in His mercy He called this family to Him. There's much bantering back and forth in our current environment, from doubters, haters, unbelievers, atheists that hate God and His people (and would indeed blow them up). When I consider the grace that He has showered on me through the thick and thin that is this world, I cannot help but love and trust Him. I have said it many times and I fully believe this -- if it were not for the grace of God, I would be in a gutter somewhere. That's where my sin's conclusions would take me and worse. I told my niece Olivia that and she laughed and said, "Oh Aunt Rose, no!" But yes, it is true. His goodness fills the heart and overwhelms us with His nature. It's inexplicable. 

So with my sprung ribs, stuffed head, leaking nose and leaden behind, I wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving, even though I'll really be glad when it's over.