Gorgeous is not feeling well. There’s been this nasty cold/flu thing going around and she’s got it.
Yesterday she had the whole Demi Moore voice thing going on. It sounded like her throat must have been pretty stinking sore. I thought I’d steer clear and painted our master bathroom. I tried to get her to take it easy.
She tried to help me paint.
We got it all done, but I don’t think she’s going to make it to church today. She shouldn’t be spreading those germs around anyway.
Check out this poem David wrote. I guess there were times he felt lousy too.
Take a deep breath, God; calm downâ€”
don’t be so hasty with your punishing rod.
Your sharp-pointed arrows of rebuke draw blood;
my backside smarts from your caning.
I’ve lost twenty pounds in two months
because of your accusation.
My bones are brittle as dry sticks
because of my sin.
I’m swamped by my bad behavior,
collapsed under gunnysacks of guilt.
The cuts in my flesh stink and grow maggots
because I’ve lived so badly.
And now I’m flat on my face
feeling sorry for myself morning to night.
All my insides are on fire,
my body is a wreck.
I’m on my last legs; I’ve had itâ€”
my life is a vomit of groans.
Lord, my longings are sitting in plain sight,
my groans an old story to you.
My heart’s about to break;
I’m a burned-out case.
Cataracts blind me to God and good;
old friends avoid me like the plague.
My cousins never visit,
my neighbors stab me in the back.
My competitors blacken my name,
devoutly they pray for my ruin.
But I’m deaf and mute to it all,
ears shut, mouth shut.
I don’t hear a word they say,
don’t speak a word in response.
What I do, God, is wait for you,
wait for my Lord, my Godâ€”you will answer!
I wait and pray so they won’t laugh me off,
won’t smugly strut off when I stumble.
I’m on the edge of losing itâ€”
the pain in my gut keeps burning.
I’m ready to tell my story of failure,
I’m no longer smug in my sin.
My enemies are alive and in action,
a lynch mob after my neck.
I give out good and get back evil
from God-haters who can’t stand a God-lover.
Don’t dump me, God;
my God, don’t stand me up.
Hurry and help me;
I want some wide-open space in my life!
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