Two days in to my recent sickness I found myself sitting at the kitchen table blankly staring toward the counter. It had taken about all the energy I could muster to get there. And there I sat. Content to sit. But for the first time in 48 hours, food actually smelled good. So, I sat there and enjoyed the aroma.
Last night I wolfed down a fantastic new chicken dish that Mrs. Martin prepared. When I stopped to breathe after my last swallow, my mind went back to that moment in the kitchen 4 days earlier. I couldn’t eat a thing back then... even if it smelled good. And even when I could eat again, it was only in small portions and with painful digestion. Yet here I was just days later eating and laughing and drinking with my family around the table.
It made me think of the Lord’s grace.
Sick and dying (dead!) in sin, there was no spiritual pleasure to be had. The monotony of sin was enough and I was so callous I was actually ready to die and enter a Christ-less eternity. Then He came and took me and saved me and made me His own! Grace! Intervention! Salvation! Joy! LIFE!
But how many days go by that I give that spiritual health no thought. I take it for granted that I will one day go to heaven and I think very little in the way of serious thoughts about my God.
Slowing down (read: “being slowed down”) by sickness taught me that I am far too presumptuous. Presumptuous about my health, to be sure. But of far worse consequence, presumptuous about His grace.
I hope this little trial was one of those life-changing events for me – that will result in more daily thoughts of praise for sovereign grace.