Flu Prison

It was bad guys. 

Really bad. 

I woke up on Wednesday morning and felt like a bus ran over my 5'2" body while I slept. 

I'm strong though. I never get sick. I took a couple ibuprofen and taught piano and violin lessons and even kept a play date at chick fila. 

And then I crashed. I had to cancel plans, lots of them. 2 of them being meetings to pray which really gets my blood boiling. 

And then Thursday. The thought of lifting my legs off the mattress and walking downstairs brought me to tears. There is. No. Way. I can do it. 

Mom rescued me and took the kids. My body glued to the couch. No life in me. 

Then Friday. We were supposed to be driving to Charlotte. No way flu. No way. You are not canceling our trip to see friends. Brandon wrangled bags and kids and I slid into the front seat. 

7 hours. We made it. I made it into bed. And that's where I stayed. 

Saturday. 

Sunday. Easter. I was in bed until dinner. There can't be a resurrection Sunday with a broken body that isn't resurrecting.  I've got to give it a try. Meds were barely making a dent. Pushing fluids all day. Praying. Singing. Sleeping. 

I made it to the grocery with Veronica and then a park with friends and family. 

Resurrection life was in the sunshine. It was the most simple Easter dinner we've ever had and it was the most grateful my heart has been to be alive. 

Monday I woke with the first sign of healing. The aches were slowly dissipating. Tuesday was even better. 

Jesus! What is life without health? When pain keeps your mind focused on self and your prison becomes your own body. Jesus, your healing was already poured out for the lame, so I declare it over the ones who haven't received what's already theirs. 

Lyme disease. Go!

Fiber myalgia. Go!

Cancer. Be gone!

Arthritis. Go!

Parkinson's. No more. 

Pain. There is no room for you here!

Multiple Sclerosis. Done. You're over. 

My eyes are opened and my heart is full. If you're living with pain, I am so sorry. You were not made for this. You are loved much more. 

Cheers to living in the finished work of the cross. Praying for this earth to look a little more like

heaven.