I’ve been sick so often since my youngest child was born that I’m beginning to have to grasp at straws in order to look for the bright side of this situation. My latest attempt involves likening my spiritual life to a sinus infection. In it’s most basic form, the theology goes something like this: I’ve got so much gunk in my head, I can’t think straight. Therefore, I feel like crap. It ain’t Augustine, but it works for me at the moment.

The Word indicates often that the thought life is the root of much of our trouble. That being the case, I seem to have developed a rather insidious strain that is particularly resistant to antibiotics, and it is wrecking havoc with my health. I no sooner clear up the symptoms than another infection rears its ugly head and I am down again. I worry—about my weight, about my finances, about my children, about my relationship with God. The germ enters my system and before I know it fear, discontent, and entitlement are racing full-blown through my bloodstream. I am sick.

I want to get better. But I am powerless. There was an old commercial for some food product that urged us to Eat all you want, we’ll make more! I’m convinced whatever creates snot in our heads works for the same product label. Blow all you want, we’ll make more! I take my thoughts captive as often as I blow my nose, discarded Kleenex and thought-particles all over the nightstand and floor, but my head is still full of both. No amount of striving brings change without a healing agent at work in my head.

Saline rinses, one person tells me. Oil of oregano capsules, says another. Echinacea, vitamin C, zinc lozenges, Airborne, mushrooms—I’ve tried them all. Nothing gets to the root of the infection. Bible reading plans, journaling, memorization, fasting, prayer—I’ve tried them all. Nothing gets to the root of the infection. I’ve got to try harder, I tell myself. The answer is out there somewhere, preferably in a conveniently-packaged pill form—that is the promise, is it not? Take this, you”ll feel better. But I’m not feeling better, and I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired.

Finally at the end of myself and my medicine chest, I invite the Holy Spirit to do what only He can—to heal my weary head. I implore Him to clear out all that is not of Him and restore right thinking, clear breathing, proper functioning, and overall health. Bring healing where my best efforts have failed. Enable me to breathe again. I’m tired of sitting on the couch with a box of Kleenex—I want to get on with my life and stop blowing my nose. I am ready, Lord. It’s time to clear my head.

devotional humor overload reflection spiritual growth