Sometimes when we are forced to be still, we hear and see things we would have otherwise missed.
Sunday morning I awakened by a throbbing migraine. I have had them since my freshman year in college. My mama has them. My granddaddy had them. Over the years, I’ve learned to feel one coming on and I can head it off by taking medication early, before it gets bad. After it gets bad, there isn’t much to do besides, sit in the darkness with an ice pack on my head.
Because of my learned coping strategies, it’s been a long time since one has really knocked me off of my feet, but this one was sneaky and it came during the night. I tossed and turned as it got worse and it wasn’t until it became more than I could stand, that I finally got up and took something.
Of course, it was too late at that point and I had to get an ice pack and go right back to bed. An hour later, I finally trudged into the kitchen for some coffee to continue the fight. It was a little better, but still there. I sat at the kitchen table in semi-darkness, lamenting the fact that I would miss church and probably the work out I had promised myself.
I knew very well that my day would be slowed down to a turtle crawl at best and a day on the sofa at worst.
As I began to drinking my second cup of coffee, I could hear nothing but silence and the ticking of a clock. The sky through my windows began to brighten and the sun came out. It had been raining for days, so my soul felt a little lighter. Then a deer walking the fence line caught my eye. I sat mesmerized watching her, wondering what had caught her attention.
If I hadn’t felt confined to the chair, I would have been up emptying the dishwasher.
I likely would have missed the sun breaking through the clouds and the deer.
A little while later, I went to let the dogs out and it felt like a cool spring morning. I grabbed a blanket and went out to the porch to sit and I could hear the creek behind our house. It doesn’t normally have enough water to make a gurgling sound, but the recent rains had given it a beautiful voice, one I would have missed if I hadn’t had the headache.
As I sat, bundled up in the cool morning air, I felt thankful and blessed, not for the migraine. No one is thankful for a migraine or any other sickness or crises in their lives. But, I was thankful that in the stillness I was able to see God. I was able to see beauty. I was able to find peace.
The Bible tells us over and over that we never walk alone and most believers know that it’s true on some level, but it’s often the darkest times when we are really reminded, when we can really feel and see that promise.
A migraine reminded me. Sometimes I need reminding. Perhaps you do too.
Have an awesome day!
Wendy 🙂