Tuesday, February 19, 2008

In which I start to sound like Eeyore

A friend called to comfort me in my sickness today. I feel so demoralized and devastated. I was thrashed by life before I got sick, and had no reserves, and now I have the Mother-of-all-Miseries Virus. This friend prayed for me on the phone that my problems would be cleaned, tidied and wrapped up like a package of clothes from a Chinese laundry. Now, I did my laundry by hand in China, but when we were in Thailand I brought in ten kilos of dirty, sweaty, icky clothes, and they came back from the laundry clean, pressed and folded. They looked like works of art. The underwear looked like complicated origami! So the prayer got me thinking. I think God is able to take all my problems--my illness, my broken appliances, my grief over losing my mom and my brother, and all my other concerns—and bring something beautiful out of them. The problem is, I’m in the agitator right now. Or is it that I’m being pressed with a hot iron? Tumbled dry? At least it feels that way. And it’s no fun. I want to get to the part where it’s all wrapped up in a neat package.

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