Keith and Kristyn Getty, By Faith
I was waiting to visit the king, and I was sick. I had felt it in the heat in my forehead when I rested it on my hand, in the tiredness that dragged at body and mind, slowing them, and in the spirit, where numbness caused an apathy for life. But the day was long, and the next one longer, for it start at four thirty and not cease till ten fifteen. Tonight I would likely be up late, celebrating the last night of a close relative's visit. And my health was foundering. In such cases, I went to seek out my king, for advice and strength.Walking through the city to reach it, all I could think of was how tired I was, how much I had to do; each step was an effort, and I had not even begun to work yet. Maybe work would take my mind of being sick; maybe working would make it so bad I would miss out on visiting my my cousin tonight. Why, King who heals, am I sick right now? Why, when there is so much to do?
Each step coming closer to the castle caused me to understand less, as each step took effort I did not have to spare; would my king replenish this strength on getting there? My throat ached, a bad sign to someone whose job involves speaking all day. My nose ran, and I frequently had to pause to blow it. I felt miserable.
Now I was waiting for the king to see me. I needed him, and I needed him to strengthen me; I was living the life he appointed, so it was only just.
I paused when thinking that; even I could hear the self-pitying, selfish demand in it. No, each day was a gift from God, and each measure of strength a further gift, and he gave to all as they had need. But his promises--those I knew, those I could ask for, such as the ones where he taught his children to truthfully say "The LORD is my strength and my song, and he has become my salvation; this is my God, and I will praise him" and "God is mighty, and does not despise any; he is mighty in strength of understanding." Best tied to my situation, however, was another saying of his children: "My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." My king would give more than physical strength to his children in need. I would plead with the king for strength of spirit as well.
My turn to go in. I walked through the door held open, and looked upon my king. Words fell away and I knelt, my pride crumbling to nothing under the loving gaze of the King of Kings, Lord of Lords, the man who felt more suffering than I could comprehend and stretched the scarred arms and hands out to the ones who caused the wounds. His strength went farther than I had vision to see, his love encompassed all of me, and he would give richly all his promises for no other reason than for love. Let me remember this, I prayed, when I go out among your children and feel tempted to complain, when I sit at my desk and feel the touch of fever and want to wrap it in self-pity, when I come home and just want to collapse but should be serving instead--O God who serves us, let me remember! God who rules us, straighten my path before my feet, and cause me to walk in your way!
There is little time left in his presence, but he will go with me, this king of mine, walking beside me as my body heats and weakens, pausing when I do as I blow my nose, and lifting my hands and strengthening my spirit, in this daily walk, today, tomorrow, and always. I am not alone, sick or healthy, and I am not unloved, whether I be unlovable or obedient. I live before my king.
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