Being confined in the hospital is something we all would try to avoid, right? But, perhaps it is God’s way of showing us little things we neglect.
A few weeks ago, I was lying at a hospital bed, tossing and turning about, crying because of a pain in my stomach and the pain of having been pricked with needles twice (they could not find a thick enough vein in my hand the first time, plus, I have a slight fear of needles), and diagnosed with dengue. I felt weak, out of sorts, and had no appetite. Sleep was the only thing I wanted to do. The doctor said I had to be confined to a hospital, so off I went, together with my dearest dad.
All the way to the hospital, and even to the door of the room in which I would be admitted, I was hoping that my room would have a window so I could see the sunshine outside. But when we went in, I looked round and saw no window. Honestly, I was disappointed. The window would have given me scenery that changed colors as the sun moved, and with it I would know whether it was day or not. However, my room was enclosed; I had no way to look outside. I went to bed and lied down, feeling poorly and blue. My dad did his best to cheer me up, but I just felt so ill and sickly I almost had no heart to get well.
That is, until I read messages sent to me through Facebook, telling me that they were praying for me to get well. That alone gave me reason to try to get up and get well. The clouds of sickness and feeling miserable made a little space and a thin ray of sunlight shone through. Then I read the text messages on my parents’ phones telling them that they were coming boldly to the throne of grace, praying for me, some of them even asking for update on how I was doing. The clouds parted more and that little gleam of sunshine quickly grew. My mom and my siblings also came to the hospital to visit me, at first, but the doctor said my platelet count was back to normal and I could be discharged, so in the end they came to pick me and my dad up so that we could get home. Being at home, eating home-cooked meals, and having my little sisters around gave a great amount of sunshine. Later, I received a letter from a friend telling me that they were praying for me and that they were hoping that letter would be a bit of sunshine as I get well (and it was!). Those bits of sunshine in knowing that family and friends were praying for me were enough to brighten those miserable sick days.
If I had not gotten sick, I would not have learnt to thank God for the sun. True, I saw the sun, knew that we needed it, and loved its warmth. But I never thought of thanking God for creating the sun. During those days that I was sick, the weather was cloudy, with occasional rain showers and chilly wind, and the sun did could not be seen. I told my mom, “Perhaps I will get better when the sun comes out” and so I waited for it to come out. It did not. As the days passed with gray skies and cold days, I felt even more sickly and tired. But I was waiting for the wrong sunshine. When I heard and read that prayers were being lifted up to the throne of grace for me, I knew that that was the sunshine that I was waiting for. It helped me get-up-and-go-get-well. My Lord is truly a great God!
Thank You, Lord, for your tender mercies and great faithfulness, for those who prayed for me, for answering prayers, and for creating the sun!