I lumber around the house in a woe-be-me stupor. It feels like there’s a giant clamp around my head, a black hole in my nose, and a garden rake down my throat. Worse, the coughing fits cause me to throw up!
Eating is tiring and reading a book (if eyeballing words on a page could be called reading) only delays the inevitable. I drift between sleep and semi-consciousness on the sofa — it is the only thing I can do.
I think about the things I could be doing if I weren’t sick. And how I would probably have to miss our first meeting with the new cell group – would it be more loving to stay home to contain the infection, or to go and spend time with everyone? Then I stop thinking because my head hurt.
But a song plays gently and softly in my head: “I can search for all eternity long and find there is none like You.” It serenades me with its message of unspeakable rest: My search has ended, Jesus Christ has found me! He has given me eternal rest because he has given me a home in God’s kingdom.
I give thanks for this rest — the real, lasting and good one — and for the “rest” I am forced to take now. One day when I see Jesus face to face, I will enjoy the fullness of that eternal rest and this one right now (no matter how crappy it is) is pointing me to it.