Waking up breathless in the wee hours of Tuesday morning made me think for a moment that I was going to die. Silly I know, but my first thought was “Jesus, I’m ready, You can take me now.” Not that I wanted to give up on life so easily, but if He was taking me, then I wanted Him to make it quick instead of leaving me to gasp for air for minutes that seemed like hours on end.
To cut the long story short, I am still battling with the after-effects of terrible food poisoning. The worst I can remember in history.
The long moments standing over the sink to retch and vomit have left me weary and drained. Sitting rather dejectedly in the toilet, I felt God say, “I am not done with you yet.”
The reason why my life is preserved, or rather, why there is still a purpose for me to live is not because I am extra-special or irreplaceable. Rather, it is because He is truly not done with me yet. Life is not a sprint to be run and won quickly and painlessly, but it is a marathon which requires endurance and perseverance. That strength and grace needed to fight the good fight, finish the race well – can only be found in Him.
Sitting there in the toilet also made me think about my parents, especially Mum. For the past 29 years they have toiled, spent their tears, time and labour in raising all four of us up. The last thing they need or deserve now is a sick child to be cared for.
God, please help me not to be so burdensome. 😥