I got in enormous trouble a few weeks ago; I made an Elvis crack in the pulpit, and how I thought Carl Perkins’s rendition of “Blue Suede Shoes” was better than Elvis’s rendition of it. That was a bad call; my secretary didn’t speak to me for a day, and handed me a plaque that had a poll on the matter, showing that Elvis was indeed preferred over Carl by a few percentage points. I still maintain that Carl wrote it, therefore, he sings it best.
By Tuesday, I had the worse case of the flu I have ever had. “Elvis’s Revenge” I suppose. Two blogs below, I told you it was a 24hr bug. It's ended up being a 96+ hr bug.
I rarely get sick enough to have to stay home. But this bout of flu kicked my backside. I curled up on the couch in the fetal position, shook like a leaf from chills, didn’t feel like eating a thing, and tried to drink liquids in an effort to stave off dehydration. It's been a week, and I still don't feel 100%. As a result of staying home, I worried about things not being done at work. I worried about getting behind. And the worryfest continues.
Why? Why do we worry so much? Is it an innate protection device, or a device of our own making? I’m convinced that it’s my lack of faith in God. I could quote numerous biblical and wisdom quotations about worry… but I think in a Christian context that it comes down to a simple lack of faith and trust.
God has a way of getting my attention; in the past few days, I’ve found myself among some people who have undergone horrible ordeals of losing a job, finding themselves in a hospital, or in the midst of divorces. And yet they’ve found their faith and trust and God.
If they can, so can I. So can we all.