I’ve neglected this blog for the past several posts, and I’d like to apologize for that. I did have the excuse of being dreadfully sick, and I can’t promise that my original caliber of writing will return anytime soon.

What has this sickness meant to me? Well, at first I concealed that I had it up until I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I think that’s what we so often do as Christians with sin: not wanting others to see our weakness we conceal our sin until we cannot. This illness has been good for me, for in the absence of all other passtimes and time wasters, I find myself alone with God. Sometimes I don’t even speak, and neither does He, but I rest in peace knowing that I am in His presence, and He comforts me.

The hardest thing for me has always been admitting when I’m sick. In part it is because I don’t feel that it’s important enough to bother people with unless I’m really, really sick. But, also because I don’t like being an inconvenience, I don’t like to make things difficult for others; so I allow myself to suffer. Please don’t see this as me glorifying this quality about myself, it’s not a good thing to try to be tough and think that you can handle things on your own. You may be able to handle the physical things, but you’ll apply that to spiritual things and find that you are way out of your league.

When we try to face sin in our own strength, we fall every single time. God has given us friends, family, and the Church for a reason. They are there to help us, but we need to admit that we need help. Like I said, I am the worst about this, but I want to do better. But even wanting to do better requires me asking for help. It starts with admitting that you’re sick, then asking God for the strength to ask others for help. Don’t try to be a superhero, because every superhero has a kryptonite.

As always, thanks for reading.

–the anonymous novelist 

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