Then Jesus said to the centurion, "Go! Let it be done just as you believed it would." And his servant was healed at that moment.
One thing I could always count on when I teach is getting sick. At least twice, if not three times, a year.
Exposed to hundreds of children carrying millions of germs. Sneezing and coughing without covering their mouths. Touching me to get my attention.
There isn't enough hand sanitizer in the world to stave off the onslaught.
And, here comes the cold. The sore throat. The congestion. The coughing.
The misery . . .
Where minutes turn into long, tedious, lethargic hours.
No energy. No appetite. No pill does the trick.
Suffering . . .
With the Kleenex box as my constant companion.
Grumpy. Growling. Groaning.
I stagger through my illness. Hoping. Praying.
That at any time. At any moment.
I'll start to turn the corner.
Begin to feel just a tidbit better. Experience a tad of relief.
To assure me I'm on the mend.
And, give me hope that soon. Very soon . . .
I will be healed.
When you get sick, what kind of patient are you?
Will you join me in prayer?
When we fall ill, Father, help us to remember that You are there to hold us through the struggle. May we recall the many healing miracles performed by Jesus and trust that we, too, will heal in time. Give us the strength to persevere and the courage to endure. Amen.
Psalms 89:1-18 or 89:19-52
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