Sicky, Sneezy, and a couple other dwarves.

Sicky. That’s what Brooke calls me (affectionately) whenever I’m sick. She’ll come in my room, where I have been trying to score baskets with my used, snotty tissues (and missed a good portion of the time, so there’s a ring of tissues around my trash can on the floor), and sit on my bed for a second. Then she sees that my room is all messy and my blinds are closed and it looks like a tomb in there because I feel like I’m about to die anyways, so it doesn’t matter if it’s messy. So she gets up and starts folding clothes, asking where things go. She opens my blinds and takes all the germy cups off my nightstand. Then she brings me a cup of tea and says, “feel better, Sicky,” in a sort of baby voice that makes me feel like I’m the little sister – oh, wait, I am – and leaves.

It’d bother her to death if she was sick and her room was messy. She wouldn’t be able to get better until her rooms as clean. So, her way of taking care of me and helping me to get better includes helping me be a neater person.

That’s when she’s home. Right now, I’m having to weather the storms of illness without her. It’s all right; my mom takes good care of me. But this time I don’t get to stay home. I have to go to school even though I feel bad.

Somewhere in the last two years it became a lot harder to miss school. You not only have to do worksheets and make up reading assignments, but you’ll have to learn what everyone else learned while they were healthy and in class.

I just don’t miss school much. It’s less stressful – believe it or not – to be sick at school than to have to do all the makeup work later.

Such is life.

So, I stock up on Kleenex and Halls and tea, and I sniff my way through class, and I sneeze while driving.

I almost didn’t go to youth group tonight because I just felt so sicky. It was one of those times where I knew that I would probably benefit from going, but my head was saying, I hurt. there’s too much congestion here. we’ve got to evacuate some of these sinus issues. All the signs pointed to not going, but I went anyways. Because who knows if there was something I needed to hear?

We talked about foundations, the story at the end of Luke 6 where the wise guy builds his house on a rock foundation, and the foolish man doesn’t give his house a good foundation. Then the storm comes and the foolish guy’s house is completely destroyed. I was sitting there thinking about how many different people had told me this story, and wondering if maybe I should have just stayed home and taken care of my sicky self – but then someone brought up something that I had never thought about.

The storm didn’t just hit the house that didn’t have a foundation. the storm hit BOTH of the houses. The key difference is how they were affected. Both houses and their inhabitants had to face the storm, but, in the aftermath, one was way better off than the other.

Reminders are good. I have to remind myself not to tune something out because I’ve heard it before.

And now, on to tea, tissues, and calculus.

and listening to the new Switchfoot album. which I love – not surprisingly.

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