Feathers Not Bricks

I guess this is the time when I put my money where my mouth is. I feel rotten. I have been sick for days now, went to the doctor only to be told I must rest for four to five days without benefit of antibiotics. So here I am - just me and my letter to God:

What is it You want of me, God? What am I supposed to be learning from this? I have gone through the poor me mentality which is so crazy because so many people are way worse off than I am. I know this, but I still feel crummy. Why am I suffering now? What good is to come of this? Patience? Am I to learn patience? Am I to realize true gratitude for my restored health once it's restored? Each day I suppose I feel a teeny bit better, but still bad.

I'm trying not to yell at those around me even though I really feel like it. Are You teaching me restraint, God? What other virtues must I learn? That's a scary thought. I'm not exactly in the most receptive mood. What else shall be coming my way? You've been known to use the power of plagues in the past. Maybe could we bypass those in this modern day; keep them buried in the past? I can be a quick study when I want to be. Throw all the feathers You want at me, but please withhold the bricks.

You know I like to write. Are you disguising this illness as a means for me to slow down and grab the opportunity to write? Is the sickness merely the wrapping paper and bow with the true gift inside the pretty box being hours of writing? Is that it? Then I really should be thanking You, so thank You.

Am I simply supposed to take the time to look around and appreciate what I already have been given by You? There is absolutely no comparison to the wonders You have bestowed upon me compared to the poverty and abuse so many of Your children must endure on a daily basis. I complain too much. Maybe not so much anymore to others, but in my head and heart I'm still a complainer. And who hears the sounds of my head and heart? Yep, just You. I'm sorry.

I will sincerely try to be better - BE better - not feel better. Only You can restore my health, so while I'm laid up I will filter my heart and mind sounds so as to not hurt Your feelings, and open up the listening avenues to hear Your wishes for me.

'Member God, feathers, not bricks - pretty please with sugar and honey on top? I'll be good.

Love,
Me :)