We are in the middle of the most dangerous time of the year - sick season.
A few headlines today read:
“Pope cancels visits at the Vatican due to illness.”
“Health officials warn Americans to prepare for the spread of the Coronavirus.”
“North Texas region highest in Texas for child flu deaths.”
With the approach of the coronavirus, the world seems to be in a standstill. Americans are dying, the stock market is bouncing, travel is limited, and the unknown is leaving both the affected and bystanders in fear.
During this season, we want to make sure that we do what we can to keep both the coronavirus and other illnesses away. So we begin making lists and doing what we can to kill the germs and chances of sickness as often as we can. Churches take precautions during the welcome time, Germ-X dispensers aren’t far from reach, and parents know it is a poor time to plan a trip to Chuck-E-Cheese.
It’s pretty simple, no one wants to be sick.
Last week, I suffered from Mono. The sickness was unknown to me, and I have never been that sick. Fun fact: One day, I had enough strength to clean my room...the next day, I quickly regretted it as I felt like a deflated balloon.
But I think the scariest part of it all was that there was no medicine to take to help me get over it. Instead, the doctors told me to “Take Tylenol and Ibuprofen for pain and rest.” I don’t know if you’ve ever had a sore throat pain so severe that you find yourself crying as you force water in your mouth, but that’s what I felt. I quickly found that “Tylenol and Ibuprofen” have little effect on a throat that feels like fire is flaming around my tonsils.
But during my sick season, I was quick to consider how if I’m not careful, I treat my faith as a Band-Aid excuse to get me out or “feeling better.”
It’s so easy to look at a life situation and say/think, “Well, I’ll just pray about it and it’ll be alright.” My sickness helped me to realize that I am prone to come to Him in times of crisis.
How unscriptural is that?
I often feel pressure to perform and paint the picture of a perfect Christian.
But my, how far from it am I.
Here’s the truth about Hannah Harrison. I am a sinner. I lie. I forget to read my Bible, or worse, I just don’t. All of those things are accompanied by a slew of other mess-ups and mistakes.
Being physically sick or having someone you love hurting, will have you telling God, “I’ll do whatever you want me to if you’ll just heal me! Make them better, please!”
At that moment, it’s easy to believe that God has the power to overcome sickness. But not the temptations in our everyday life. Even as a mature Christian, sometimes I find myself doubting God’s power and treating Him like He’s a genie in the bottle.
This week, I spent time in the Word. Because yes, I was desperate for healing and energy to reenter my body. But what I realized was even though I can have such a small faith, He still wants me.
In Mark 2, we find the account of Jesus healing a paralytic. Then the writer tells the story of Levi who after calling him Jesus sits and dines with tax-collectors and sinners. As you might guess, the Scribes and Pharisees question Jesus for his choice of companionship. But Jesus simply looked at them and said:
Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick (Mark 2:17).
It was the ultimate reminder that we need Jesus.
And do you know who Jesus wants? He wants us.
He doesn't want perfect, healthy, and always capable people. Instead, He wants those who have realized that He is all we need. If that takes Him crushing our immune system and the comfort zones around us, He will.
He uses the broken, hurting, and even the sick to magnify his name. But most importantly, He uses the sinners. And boy, am I thankful.
No matter what you’re going through, if it is sickness, struggles, or feeling like you’re not a “good enough Christian,” take heart! He wants the broken. He isn’t going to judge; He just wants you to acknowledge your sins and your need for a Savior.
He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away (Revelation 21:4).