I wasn’t able to go to church yesterday, thanks to the monster living in my sinuses. (TMI, I know).
From my nest of blankets and Kleenex, I looked out at the window and sighed with contentment as the beauty of a sunny, crisp fall morning graced my eyes. Despite being sick, I felt stirred. Excited, even. I might be stuck in the house with a drippy nose and a cough, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t worship the Lord. I could have church on my own. I could join, in spirit, with all of my brothers and sisters around the world in exalting and enjoying the Savior.
Then I spied my empty juice glass.
Better rinse that out.
And I’d better take a shower.
And I’d better put the muffins in a container, so they don’t go stale.
Don’t You know, Jesus, that the dishwasher needs to be unloaded? Don’t You know that the laundry needs to be put away? Don’t You know that the house needs to be tidied up? Don’t You know?
Marie, Marie! Worried about so many things.
What was I afraid of? Why did I have to get those tasks done before I could sit down and simply be with my Lord? Am I really still connecting my worth as a person to how much I accomplish in a day? Even when I’m sick?
Grace and peace along the way.