Everything's OK

So, yeah, I've been sick for a few weeks. Well, technically I guess I've been sick for a few months. An ear infection turned into a respiratory infection. No x-rays, but they gave me all the drugs for pneumonia. The ear infection was fungal, so it took a while to figure out. I'm also bad at doctors, so that doesn't help anything at all. The ear infection was annoying. The respiratory infection wiped me out for a few weeks. Weeks.

I've never been sick for weeks in my life. I've had one other acute health problem--a rash when I moved to Arizona--that required urgent care, primary care, and a specialist to end up with, "Huh. I've never seen anything like that before." I could count the doctor visits this time, but I'd have to sit down and do that. Actually, now that I think about it, I probably hit double digits.

And you know what? Everything's ok.

I missed a Sunday and someone covered. Actually, several people covered. They were willing, gracious, and it wasn't a big deal at all. Someone else to preach took a single email and the Gospel was well proclaimed.

The bare minimum has gotten done at church, at least compared to what I normally do. Still, we gathered for worship, we celebrated a 90th birthday, we're as ready as we ever are at this time for Easter.

My apartment looks like I haven't felt great for three months. Slowly but surely, though, it's getting better. This weekend, the Christmas decorations may even get put in the closet. They were down soon after Epiphany, but the giant green tub is still in my living room.

The cat had to make do on only dry food for a few days. Despite what she would tell you, she's ok.

Everything's ok. In a world that idolizes busy and productivity, it's been a good reminder for me. I barely left my bed and couch for a solid week, and everything was ok. I didn't get back on the horse very quickly at all, and everything's ok. It's not perfect, but really, how often does perfect actually happen?

I remember my mother's hatred of the story of Mary and Martha, where Mary stopped and sat at Jesus' feet. She was commended for having chosen what was better. My mother always said she understood Martha better. And good grief, after all, things had to get done. There are meals to cook, dishes to wash, laundry to do, and a whole list of other things. This is, of course, the same woman who never permitted sleeping past 10 a.m. on a Saturday. I remember her waking me up, quoting from Proverbs, "A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep, and poverty will come upon you like a thief." Yeah, that's a super fun way to wake up.

I think we'd have even more stories like that, though, if Jesus showed up today. We'd have more stories that are an antidote to our busyness. We'd have our frenetic lives called out regularly. Maybe the craziest thing about the Gospel is the claim that our worth is not tied to what we do or how well we do it. Our worth is tied to God.

So relax. Don't worry so much. Because you know what? Everything's going to be ok.