Wonderfully made

Today is the first day I have felt a considerable measurable of relief from the symptoms that have plagued me these last few days.  I have been in physical agony of such intensity that a simple task such as getting a glass of water exhausted all my resolve.  This virus was more virulent than any other that had previously attacked my system.  It held me captive to my couch and deprived me of rest and sleep both day and night.  I thank God for having crossed to the other side-the place where healing is finally accomplishing its work.

There might the occasional soul who may be confounded by my joyous  declaration of physical restoration.  "It's just the flu, Delia, no reason to make a big deal about it.  Of course you would snap out of it eventually... "  Ahh, maybe...  I have been in health-care long enough to see people come into the hospital with a simple cold and hours later their lungs shut down and they toggle between life and death.  Nobody knows why, or how.  The trip to intensive care is often paved with questions that elude answers.  Eternity is but a breath away...

There is great relief sweeping over me at having "overcome" the offending microorganism.  I have never experienced this sentiment before... I always took healing for granted.  Today I am more aware of the complex world of viruses and bacteria that constantly seem to shift and mutate their structure, making them more difficult to eradicate by our present means.  I also appreciate how "fearfully and wonderfully"  my body is in its design:  cells perpetually standing in attention to fight off incoming invaders;  a heart that beats without my input, directing litters of blood to circuit throughout the body every minute of every day...  lungs that inhale, independent of my command, life-giving oxygen that keeps the entire machinery of life going, pulsing, beating...  Yet, amidst the complexities and incredibly intricate mechanisms of the body, there is potential for great peril.  One simple clot in a blood-carrying vessel and this life would expire... one super-invader overcoming invisible defense barriers and this story would be terminated...  Eternity is so, so close...

As I am enjoying rest on the other side of this debilitating flu, I thank God for the gift of life; for a body that triggered the right responses in its defense; for its ability to rebuild and reconstruct, and forge protective pathways.  It is in Him that I breathe, and move, and have my being.

For you created my inmost being;
    you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
    your works are wonderful,
    I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
    when I was made in the secret place,
    when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.Your eyes saw my unformed body;
    all the days ordained for me were written in your book
    before one of them came to be.

 (Psalm 139)


Small joys

As I am sitting here sipping on my thyme and cinnamon-honey tea (a strange combination indeed), I am so grateful for the small pleasures of life. Under normal circumstances, such a combination of tea ingredients would not exactly produce feelings of exaltation; however, as I am doing all I can to empower my body in its fight against a menacing virus, thyme is what the "family doctor" prescribed (ie. my sister, and she is a nurse).

This morning has been full of gratuitous yet significant luxuries already.  My husband saved the last square of sea salt chocolate for me, an indulgence that has elevated my pleasure quotient and I am sure will contribute to a speedier recovery.  Just minutes ago, I had a long phone conversation with my five-year old nephew (me, asking questions, he, dutifully answering). Although Joshua has transitioned to the "small boy" phase in which he asserts his independence every time I run to help him with some task, in my eyes he is still the toddler who needs me at every turn.  I still want to tie his shoelaces, or wash his face after breakfast, or-alas, even worse!- feed him when he gets distracted.  I still want to pick his clothes and dress him on the rare occasion I get to baby-sit him.  To my disappointment (I know, a most selfish sentiment), Joshua has now taken charge of these daily tasks which have given me such immense satisfaction in the past.  However, our relationship is as precious as it was when he couldn't pronounce my name or jump the stairs like a bunny. Now that Joshua can translate his surroundings into words and can therefore specifically instruct me about how to play a certain game (customization is not encouraged), I am enjoying the depth that comes with verbalizing moments that will be rendered immortal in the treasure chest of my heart. 

As I am rediscovering this morning, joy can come from the simplest-and often unappreciated-places.  A cup of warm tea on a winter morning.  A hidden square of chocolate in a fridge full of vegetables.  A sweet conversation with a child (in my case, time with Joshua is both therapeutic and magical).  A walk in the rain forest. God is perpetually delighting my spirit with His gifts. He has colored the skies with serene hues of blue and injected the grass with vibrant shades of chlorophyll so we would taste and see how good He is.  Because of Him and through him, life has merit and pleasure.  La vita e bella, indeed...




Christmas

 Mary drew her Son close to her breast, the smell of His newborn skin enveloping her senses.  She could feel His breath exhaled in a soft mi...