Woke up this morning to the sound of my alarm and a text coming in on my phone.

Maria: “Did you throw up the Mexican food last night? I did and feel quite a bit better. I don’t think I’m going to try Mexican for a while.”

It’s amazing how, given correct context, a text like this could fill a person with relief. That explained the stomach cramps all afternoon and evening Sunday, and the three urgent trips to the bathroom resulting in a second taste of the leftover Mexican food we had eaten for lunch.  Relieved that it only seemed to be a mild case of food poisoning, I got ready for work and arrived just in time to open.  6:45.

Later that day, still feeling pretty rotten, I received a text from Mr Perry who (though he had not eaten the Mexican food with us) also was suffering from a case of yucky-belly. Sister-in-law Annie, turns out, was also a victim. I sat at my desk, surrounded by people in the crowded work space, and tried to hold my breath – hoping I wasn’t contagious.  Unable to sit up straight, think about food, or drink more than little sips of water, I somehow survived the day. (it helps that I spent my lunch break in my car asleep)

Annie seems to be feeling much better, as does Maria. I’m hoping that I’ll pull out of this silly flu shortly as well.

Funny thing is, this stomach flu has actually made me thankful.

Thankful for the healing my stomach has done in the past year. It was a little over a year ago that stomach aches were a part of my normal life. Camp food ripped through my insides and left me feeling nauseous most of the time. I’m thankful that some of the stress-induced food intolerance have lessened – that there’s an end in sight for this stomach ache, and I am confident that I’ll be feeling great very soon.

Thank you, Jesus, for healing.

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