So I am finally resurfacing from my bedroom, feeling like I have Bambi legs— you know, a little weak and wobbly. The dreaded stomach flu hit me with vengeance on Wednesday, and it’s now Sunday and I’m feeling almost human again. Yay!
It’s okay, I’m not going to go into any detail about my ailments, as personally I would rather choose to forget all that nastiness. No, I’m here because I’ve really missed writing and communicating, and pretty much everything really. I usually love my bedroom, but it was starting to feel a bit prison-esque. Enough is enough. Especially when the sun is shining outside and I swear the birds are taunting me with their “It’s so gorgeous out here” songs. These Bambi legs may be a wee bit unsteady, but they are getting me out of my sickbed pronto.
When the beast first struck, I thought to myself, “Okay, self, you are down and out for 24 hours— that means you can make the most of the time and write whilst in bed. Got the latest novel to finish and all that.” Well, this self had the attention span of a gnat and couldn’t keep her eyes open long enough to open the laptop, so that plan failed massively.
As bad went to worse and the days progressed, I thought, “Hmm, maybe God is trying to tell me something. Every moment is a teachable moment, right? The chills and the raging fever… surely this must be my hot and coldness in my walk with Christ? The feeling like a wrung out ragdoll— confirmation that Christ is my strength. And then, when I got fed up of my own silent ranting, I decided,
“Yeah, it’s just time I got sick.”
In all fairness, I am a healthy little ox, and very rarely take a sicky. I wouldn’t wish this particular brand of ugly on anyone, but if nothing else, it certainly makes one grateful for the healthy days. I’m excited just to feel relatively normal again.
I’m no Joseph at interpreting dreams, and usually I can’t remember my own, but this morning’s was ultra vivid. And a bit crazy. Bear with me— I still may have a remnant of fever:
I was visiting the UK with husband and sons, and en route in the plane, my youngest son asked me to read something in a manual. (Weird for starters.) Now my eyes are no longer 20/20, but as I tried to read, the words were getting more and more blurry, to the point where I gave up in frustration (sooo not me— of course!!) The next second we were at my mother-in-law’s house, with a ton of the family all crammed in there. I should have clued in that I was dreaming when I saw my 2 nephews (in their 20’s) had a bedroom in the bathroom. Anyway, my eyesight was getting worse by the second, as if my eyes were gradually being glued shut. I remember feeling my way around upstairs, chatting to everyone (who didn’t notice I was blind), and then I made my way downstairs very carefully to speak with my sister-in-law. She asked if I was okay and I said I was having some problems with my vision. Suddenly, I looked in the mirror behind her, and saw to my horror that my eyes were actually glued down. No eye balls at all. (Yeah, I should really have had “dream” alarm bells when I could “see” that I was blind!)
I woke up with a jolt, the way you do, usually after a falling-from-a-cliff dream, and opened my eyes. Yes, my eyes opened. No glue, not even pink eye or conjunctivitis (depending on your side of the ocean), just the glorious sight of my wondrous bedroom. I love my bedroom again. The white walls- extra bright, the sun filled the room and through my French doors the sky was bursting blue and the leaves on trees a brilliant green.
It really was just a dream.
If you know me, you’ll be aware of my “thing” with eyes. They freak me out, always have. I don’t “do” eyes. So I was relieved I didn’t have to be whisked away for eye surgery. But more than that, it was a moment of seeing things anew almost. I had not been impressed last week, missing out on a serving opportunity and a chance to show hospitality— my sickness wiped both of those from my calendar, and I had been looking forward to them. But after being somewhat humbled and made vulnerable, having that reminder that I’m not invincible or irreplaceable or anywhere close to being Superwoman, it was good.
It was a downtime I would never have chosen, but it’s allowing me to take a breath and to see everything with a fresh perspective. Something I didn’t know I needed, but obviously Someone knew I really did.
And maybe I’ll take these Bambi legs for a gentle little stroll later on, and see with fresh eyes what else I’ve been missing…
Thanks for staying with my post-sicky ramblings! Here’s to a healthier week—
