I spent the last five days in bed with a nasty virus. One of those ones that has you staggering home from work on the first day, crawling into bed with the quilt pulled high, and shivering uncontrollably. (And this is Australia remember, it was 32 degrees that day. Celsius)
After sleepless nights, and constant doses of Panadol, a sore throat, sore ears, (sore everything), the fever finally eased off and I had a few hours respite.
The following day the fatigue hit and I found myself almost more debilitated than when I was fighting the fever.
I had an amazing moment though as I lay, crashed out on my stomach on my bed. ‘You know what?’ I thought, ‘I don’t have to do ANYTHING.’ As I lay there I thought about what was happening in my body. It was as though a legion of microscopic soldiers were in there, primed for the cleanup job, and all I had to do was lie still and let it happen.
Somehow, completely apart from my thoughts or intentions, my body was going to clean away the rest of the virus and then gradually restock its depleted energy sources. Within a few days I’d be better. Just from lying there and letting it all happen.
And I wondered: which takes more faith? To believe that there is a God who designed and orchestrates it, or to believe it all evolved by chance? I know which one I find easier to believe.