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Spiritual Hang Nails

I think I am either going to die from the "galloping consumption" or someone is going to have enough of my crankiness and dispose of me. I guess I shouldn't jokingly use terms like "galloping consumption." There is nothing funny about tuberculosis which is what the archaic term "galloping consumption" refers to. I just have an annoying cough. In fact, I fear I may cough up a lung. Whatever bugs are going around the office see me as a perfectly good breeding host. I am tired of being sick. It is wrecking havoc on my normally sunny disposition. (People who know me well are falling over in their chairs and wondering if employing sarcasm can properly be referred to as having a sunny disposition.)

The wonder and the need for close dependence on God that I felt after my NDE (near death experience) has given way to the drudgery and tedium of every day life. I knew it would. I just gave myself more credit for being able to hold it a bay for longer. I always overestimate my abilities and then presume upon God's grace and mercy to get me out of whatever ill I have gotten myself into by writing checks my personal account can't carry.

I received the results of my sleep test. I don't know why they call it a sleep test. It's impossible to sleep with the wires and wrappings they hook you up to. I was wired up like a 5th graders science project all the while looking not unlike Medusa with my curly hair hosting the EEG wires and the like. They shouldn't have told me how little sleep I am getting. Now I feel like I have every right to be tired and cranky. Besides that, I have caught another cold. I suppose it is reasonable to think that my body needs to build up the ability to ward off disease and that having major surgery depleted my reserves. I do not, however, care to be reasonable. I want to be able to breathe without coughing.

Having a runny nose and persistent cough is like having a hang nail on my soul. Every now and again I catch it just right and those unsanctified thoughts (and words) come bubbling to the surface. I guess it is better not to write too much when you're like this, unless of course you are going to write about the solution to such crankiness. What is the solution? Self-control.

My responsibility to act in a manner becoming a woman of God doesn't change. The standards are not flexible and contingent upon how I feel, how much sleep I have had or how nice people have been to me throughout the day. I am commanded to live a holy life which includes being charitable and kind to others. Having a cold or the flu makes that more difficult, but the difficulty factor does not change the requirement. Too often we give ourselves imaginary latitude to behave the way our emotions lead us, as if we have our fingers crossed and God isn't aware.

Wow, I have managed to convict myself. I think I better quit while I am ahead.

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