Some of you know that for the last few months I have been battling sickness.  My lung function declined fairly rapidly, and pretty low.  After trying oral antibiotics for a while and not getting anywhere, we placed a PICC line two weeks ago for IV antibiotic therapy.  Unfortunately, we haven’t seen much of a difference in my lung function yet with these treatments.  However, I am optimistic that some different antibiotics and a longer therapy will eventually fix this decline.

It isn’t so much the PICC line or the antibiotics that have plagued my thoughts and conversations lately, though I have had many people ask what strange thing I was hooked up to at work.  What has bothered me lately is that this sickness took my voice – twice. It’s not so much that I couldn’t talk to people, although that was annoying at times, but that I couldn’t sing that bothered me.

I have always loved singing – in the car, in the shower, in church, at work – pretty much anywhere.  My parents tell me that, as a child, I could sing ‘Jesus loves me’ on key, and since then I’ve pretty much never stopped singing.  I used to take walks around the pond at Gordon, and just sing praise songs.  When I feel particularly disappointed in my day or my situation, I sing.  When I’m amazed by the beauty around me, I praise God by singing.  I was once challenged to spend an entire church service without singing.  It nearly killed me.  In fact, I don’t think I made it the entire service.

I’ve lost my voice to sickness before, and it’s always frustrating.  This time, though, it hit me particularly hard because I lost my voice, and then, when I almost had it back, I lost it again.  Even now, it’s  not quite back completely, which frustrates me  beyond belief.  But, all selfish frustration aside, not being able to sing has reminded me how much I need it.

Sometimes we have to lose something to know how much we depend on it, or how much it brightens our day.  When I’m feeling sick, or exhausted or disappointed, it helps me to sing.  Because it reminds me to praise God when things are tough, and not only when they are good.  It reminds me that what might be tough now will eventually pass, and that God will use it for His glory, even if I can’t see how.  It reminds me that His blessings can come through raindrops, and His healing does come through tears.  It reminds me that He will raise me up, when troubles come and my heart is burdened.

What if your blessings come through raindrops?

What if your healing comes through tears?

What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know you’re near?

What if trials of this life, the rain, the storms, the hardest nights,

are your mercies in disguise?