Dancing In My Pajamas

After 2 weeks of being sick with many days in bed, I have come to appreciate what some people go through when they have a severe sickness. My sickness wasn’t that devastating. It just sucked the energy out of me and caused me a lot of coughing and sneezing.

I barely had enough energy to get out of bed, walk to the living room, and sit in my easy chair for my morning cup of coffee. I paused for a few moments to catch my breath after that strenuous trip.

Because of my sickness, I had to go to the bathroom at least five times during the day. I had to run to the bathroom and slowly walk back to my easy chair, which took a lot of energy.

I do remember my grandmother’s home in the mountains of Pennsylvania. They didn’t have indoor plumbing and used an outhouse in their backyard. Who knows what an outhouse is today?

If you had to go to the bathroom at night, she put something out in the hallway, which she called a “potty pot.” I was thinking about that the other day and almost asked The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage if that would be a good idea during my sickness.

After considering that idea, I had enough energy to erase it from my mind and just race back and forth during those potty trips.

During this time, I never left the house, I didn’t have enough energy to change out of my pajamas and get into my pants. I’ve never been in my pajamas for so long, but of course, I didn’t realize what I was doing at the time.

Once, when I had to get up from the easy chair and run back to the bathroom, The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage looked at me and said, “Is that your pajama dance?”

I had no time to stop and respond, or serious consequences would occur.

When I got back from the bathroom and passed the kitchen area, I could see The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage smiling. I wanted to respond to her, but at the time, I didn’t have the energy. I could either respond to her or make it to my easy chair. I took the latter.

Those bathroom trips aren’t fun by any stretch of the imagination, and believe me; my imagination was stretched to its limit.

I’m not sure how many pajama dances I did during my sickness, and I’m not sure if I have perfected them yet. I did what was necessary to get through the situation.

I perfected a “Woozy Waltz” but didn’t have the energy to explain it to The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage. Maybe one day I could enter the “Dancing with the Star-Blazers.”

One thing I remember during that time is that I could not remember what day of the week it was. I didn’t know when I got up in the morning if it was morning, afternoon, or evening. I had to rely upon The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage to tell me what time it was and where in the world I was.

The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage brought me breakfast, and by the time I ate the last crumb, I didn’t remember if it was breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

I couldn’t remember anything, so I thought of something. It’s a wonder I had the energy to think of anything then, but I did.

With my trouble remembering, how did I know what I was eating? Could it be, and I thought about this, that without my knowing it, The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage snuck a piece of broccoli onto my plate?

The more I thought about it, the more confused I got. Certainly, she could not sneak a slice of broccoli when I was in good health, but maybe this was an opportunity she’d been looking for.

I thought about this, and my wife asked, “What are you thinking about?”

I knew I could not tell her exactly what I was thinking, so I said, “I’m just thinking about what I had for lunch this afternoon.”

What worried me was that she giggled one of those mysterious giggles when I said that. I did not know what to think about that.

If I ask her about that, she could say, “Ha ha, I got you with that one.”

That was the last thing I want to hear before bed that night.

Not long after that, my memory improved and returned to normal. I was happy about that. I noticed every time The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage brought me a plate of food, she was giggling. I was tempted to ask her what she was giggling about, but I just wasn’t going to give her the opportunity to tell me.

In my devotions this morning I read, “Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness” (Isaiah 41:10).

Thinking about this verse I was reminded how sickness brings a state of fear in my life. That fear tricks me into thinking I all alone in this situation. This verse reminds me that God is with me. When I trust my problem to the Lord He is faithful and gets me through it victoriously.