After nearly a month of sickness in our house, I have to confess that I’m pretty much on edge most of the time. Tim has been under the weather for a lot of it, so that has left me to manage and deal with most of the illnesses. I’ve made multiple doctor’s visits, juggled various medications, laundered and cleaned sickened areas, and after weeks of constant pummeling I just feel tired. I douse my children with hand sanitizer, wash their hands frequently, make them wear masks and warn them against the dangers of getting close to people when all these sicknesses are running rampant. After having about three days of everyone feeling pretty well and hearing about other sick children that have been near mine, I felt the familiar feeling of my pulse picking up and my anxiety kicking in. My mind starts following rabbit trails of more vomit bowls and sleepless nights.
Here’s the deal, I’ve been worrying and obsessing for weeks. That’s not healthy. I know that’s not healthy. I know it’s wearing me down and affecting the way I’m living. I’m snapping at my kids, losing patience with my husband, and all around being a not so pleasant person to be around. So tonight, weeks later than I should have been, I’m translating that fear to prayer. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t control whether my family gets sick. I can trust that God is sovereign and that if we aren’t done He will give us the strength to ride it out. So from here on out when I hear the words ‘fever’ or ‘vomiting’ or ‘sick’ and I feel my pulse starting to quicken, I’m going to try take a moment to pause and pray that God will handle it because I no longer can. And if you see me starting to unravel, remind me of this post and the promise that God is in control- not me!