I'm linking this up over at 152 Insights to My Soul.
From Kristin: #ThreeWordWednesday is simple, really. I know we're all busy with life and kids and jobs and parents and friends and church and whatever else it is that occupies our time. Some weeks I'm not sure what my post will be about, but knowing people will show up here on Wednesdays is good motivation to write something. #ThreeWordWednesday is a chance to pause and hear God. Sum up what you're hearing in three words. Those three words are enough. But stories are good too.
Last week Micah and I both came down with strep throat. I started feeling extremely achy and cold on Tuesday morning but I turned down his help. I have this issue with pride when I'm sick. I'm the momma. Momma is supposed to be able to do it all, right? Wrong! I needed rest! I spent all day Tuesday trying to convince myself that if I just took it a little easy, napped a bit while the kids napped, and still powered through that I would be fine.
It was clear on Wednesday that I was not getting better. I couldn't talk, I couldn't swallow. All I wanted was to curl up in bed and sleep the day away. Micah asked multiple times if I wanted him to stay home and I kept refusing. I didn't want to cause him to miss work. He saw right through me though when he came to say goodbye and asked again. I told him to go to work then started crying. I was so sore, cold, exhausted, and everything else that I couldn't hold back the tears.
He stayed home all day.
And yet I still didn't rest like I should have. I sat on the couch trying to be a part of the family (I didn't yet know I had strep, I thought it was a simple cold) and kept passing out. @@My body was BEGGING for rest and I was trying to deny it the very thing it needed to recover.@@ Micah told me to go lie down in bed and I kept insisting I was fine to be on the couch. I need a lesson in listening, I guess.
On Thursday when Micah woke up sick (I warned him not to kiss me!) the first thing he did was call in to work and told me what was going on. Then he crawled back into bed and stayed there. He apparently is a better listener than I am. I brought him juice, ibuprofen, tylenol, and anything else I could to make him comfy. I kept the kids away from our room so he could sleep.
That afternoon when I finally dragged my sick butt to the clinic and was diagnosed I realized how stupid I had been. I could have been getting better if I hadn't been so stubborn. I was so sure that it was a simple cold and I could skate my way through to the other side. So filled with pride over what I could do instead of humbling myself and admitting my need for help.
It's not shameful to admit when we need help. To admit when we need rest. To take other's advice to heart and actually follow what they are saying.
Why is it so hard for us to rest?@@