Recently I was hospitalized for pneumonia.
I had worked a night shift and come home with a fever and chills. I spent the next five days and nights in my den. My temperature fluctuated between 101.5 and 104.2. I had the chills, the shakes and a pounding headache. I could not sleep.
As this process went into the weekend I knew that I would have to just wait it out until monday when I could go to the doctor. But it was a long, brutal weekend. Finally Monday morning arrived and my wife and I drove the 45 minutes to Rochester. The CNP ordered some blood work and a chest X-ray, which showed that I had pneumonia in one of my lungs. She gave me two shots of a strong antibiotic and wrote me a prescription for oral antibiotics. I returned home to my den. I spent another sleepless night of fever-induced delirium. I was freezing cold and shivering one minute, then overwhelmingly hot the next. The hours crept by until morning.
On Tuesday morning (my birthday, believe it or not) the “D” word began, and I knew I would have to go into the hospital at least for some IV fluids to overcome the ensuing dehydration. I received a liter of IV fluid in an outpatient infusion center. I felt much better… for a while.
Once the fluids were in I returned home to my den. The fevers continued. The chills, shivers and shakes continued. The insomnia continued, and I felt worse than ever. I knew I was dehydrated again. At about 6 p.m. we made the decision to go to the emergency room. I sat in the waiting room (well it is called the ‘waiting’ room) for a couple of hours. Then I sat in the examination room for a couple more hours. Finally they admitted me to a hospital room, where a the nurse interviewed, followed by a doctor who interviewed me again. It was nearly 3 a.m. when they all left me alone to rehydrate.
But I still couldn’t sleep. I had forgotten to bring a pillow from home, and all they had was cardboard–or so it seemed. My headache was unbelieveably intense. My fever was high. I was miserable. I watched movies until sunrise, the only benefit was that my night nurse brought me juice after juice to drink.
In the middle of the night I sat up in bed. I was burning up with fever. My head was pounding. Every bone in my body hurt. I was sad, scared, and lonely. I began to cry. I wasn’t even sure why I was crying, but I couldn’t stop. I flopped onto my back and stared upward.
“Oh God…” I said.
“Hear me, O God…
“Oh Lord, forgive me…
“Have mercy on me, a sinner…
“I know you have your purpose in this illness. Heal me, Lord, I pray. Glorify Yourself in my healing.
“Thank You, Jesus… Amen”
In the morning I awoke (I finally fell asleep!) in a puddle of sweat. My fever had broken! Soon the doctors gathered around my bed and asked me more questions. They told me I would spend the night once more as they kept tabs on my condition, which seemed to be slowly improving. They unplugged my IV and encouraged me to eat and drink.
The next morning I was discharged from the hospital. I am back home. I am spending as little time as possible in the den.
Looking back, now, at that moment of tears and prayer I realize that God allowed me to go to a place of despair. And in my despair, I cried out to Him, and He heard my cry.
I am so very thankful that God is healing me. He is healing my body of this illness. But I am reminded of how He has healed me of my sins as well. I find it interesting that in the middle of my physical suffering I cried out to Him for spiritual healing. You see, it’s all connected. We are sick: physically and spiritually. God alone heals body, mind and soul. God alone is worthy of our praise.
As you prepare to take your congregation into worship, remember a time when you despaired over your sin. Be thankful for your despair–that it caused you to turn your eyes and heart unto God. Be aware that there are those in your congregation who are currently in such despair. Lead them. Help them to cry out to The Lord God their Healer. For in our healing His glory is revealed.
