I have been awfully sick. The sickness—something between a cold and the flu, a hybrid of sorts—sprang up Sunday night while I was sleeping, and it intensified to its peak this morning. Soreness. Dry heaving. Itching. Faucet-nose. Sore throat. Nausea. Dizziness. Confusion and disorientation. I’ve done lots of sleeping and skipped two classes. Jessie brought me some medicine, and Justin gave me some night-time relief and sleeping pills. They help. I actually just woke up and am going to go to the coffee shop and try to find something to eat. I’m not really hungry, but I know I should eat.
The sickness has made me think about the way we perceive our world, and how—especially as Christians—we have the tendency to make a spiritual ordeal out of everything. Let’s say that I was pinned between a rock and a hard place, trying to make such-and-such a decision, and I knew one decision glorified God while another decision did not. If I chose the path that glorified God and became sick, and if I were super-spiritual, I may interpret my sickness as an attack by a pissed-off Satan. If I chose the path that did not glorify God, and if I were super-spiritual, I may interpret my sickness as God scolding me. In the end, however, I think the logical route to take in interpreting the sickness is that the body is fighting some sort of germ or virus, and the reason for its presence is not of a spiritual causation but of being in the wrong place at the wrong time and contracting the germs. I hold to the latter view. I am sick not as a punishment from God nor as a strike from Satan but simply because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time (not a hard feat to accomplish: ¾ of the campus is sick).
Wrong place. Wrong time. And I’m ready for it to be gone.
The sickness has made me think about the way we perceive our world, and how—especially as Christians—we have the tendency to make a spiritual ordeal out of everything. Let’s say that I was pinned between a rock and a hard place, trying to make such-and-such a decision, and I knew one decision glorified God while another decision did not. If I chose the path that glorified God and became sick, and if I were super-spiritual, I may interpret my sickness as an attack by a pissed-off Satan. If I chose the path that did not glorify God, and if I were super-spiritual, I may interpret my sickness as God scolding me. In the end, however, I think the logical route to take in interpreting the sickness is that the body is fighting some sort of germ or virus, and the reason for its presence is not of a spiritual causation but of being in the wrong place at the wrong time and contracting the germs. I hold to the latter view. I am sick not as a punishment from God nor as a strike from Satan but simply because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time (not a hard feat to accomplish: ¾ of the campus is sick).
Wrong place. Wrong time. And I’m ready for it to be gone.
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