Sunday Sermon

I'm having a hard time with one of my marriage vows. The one that ends "and in health." Jeremy is still sick. We're going on month four now, and it's getting really old. Quite frankly, I am sick of my husband being sick. Now don't get me wrong; I'm not saying I blame my husband, or that I want to divorce him for being sick. I'm just frustrated with the illness itself, and with my own inability to do anything about it. And I miss my husband. The healthy husband who enjoyed doing things with me. The swimming pool companion, movie companion, walks around the block companion, visits to Jon and Phil and Rachel companion, church companion, etc, etc, etc. I miss having fun with my husband, and I hate having to choose between going out or being with him. I want my husband back.

This morning's sermon got me started on this train of thought, and what follows is a fumbling attempt at some conclusions. I've been struggling a lot this week because Jeremy's condition worsened significantly again, and he ended up missing most of the week of work. He started getting worse on Sunday afternoon, right after several members of my church came over and laid hands on him and prayed for healing. The easy answer, of course, is that it's just a coincidence that Jeremy got worse right after we prayed for him. But if Jeremy had gotten better right after we prayed for him, we would have given God the credit for that, so why not for the downturn as well?

My marriage covenant binds me to Jeremy in sickness and in health. I miss the fun stuff, but I will stand by him whether we can go camping together or not. Now, I'm not pretending to understand God's reasons for allowing Jeremy's illness to continue this long, nor do I understand why he had to get worse right after we prayed. And yeah, I'll admit that I'm a little bit upset about the whole ordeal and I don't think it's very fair at all. But I'm married to God, too, and I've made a decision to stick by him even if he decides not to be a nice, Santa Claus God who gives all the good little kids whatever they ask for. Maybe I'm due for a dose of mean, Drill Sergeant God who pushes his recruits to the point of tears because he knows they can excel beyond their wildest dreams if they are given the right incentives. Maybe it's all for the best. (But that doesn't mean I'm going to enjoy boot camp.)