"It's 101," my wife said after taking my son's temperature this morning. He was laying next to me in bed. I have no idea what time this morning he came and crawled up next to me, but I could tell he was warm.
"101, hun?" I said, not as much to confirm her scientific readings, but to try and figure out what my next move was.

I had a hectic day before me. A few errands in the morning, a meeting, and then the afternoon was to be filled with a seminar I was supposed to attend, not to mention all the preparation I had for the coming events of the week - a wedding, a Bible Class, and the always present sermon. Plus, laundry, grocery shopping, cleaning the house for my in-laws who are coming on Thursday, cooking for tonight...

"101, hun? Hummmm..."

"Ok, buddy," I said to my watery-eyed, runny-nosed son, "Guess you staying with me today and we'll try and get you into the doctor."

The first thing out of my five year olds mouth wasn't, "But Dad, won't my presence throw off your schedule?" He didn't say, "Gee Dad, is there anything I can do to help you get through your week? "He didn't offer up the, "Oh, I won't be a bother, you just do what you need to and we'll make it work."

No. The first words out of his mouth were, "Is the doctor going to give me a shot?" And before I could utter a syllable, his second line was, "Can I play Lego Stars Wars today?"

"101, hun?"

I suppose sickness does cause you to focus on self. It is hard to focus on anyone else when you are in pain. All types of pain - physical, emotional, spiritual, they all function as recurring reminders to you, of you. Your back hurts when you sit or stand, it is a painful pointing to your own deteriorating fleshliness, your mortality, if you will. Every time you see a yellow traffic signal, you flash in fear back to the crash that crumpled your car and hospitalized the other driver who ran his flashing red.

Pain has a way of focusing - overtly or sometimes vaguely - on the self. That is not always a bad thing. (Let me quickly say, it could become paralyzing it the focus never moves beyond the self). But, pain isn't always negative. My son is sick. He feels lousy. But if he never showed signs or symptoms of his illness, no one would do anything to make him better. The sickness would continue to move through his body eventually causing irreperable damage.

Pain serves as a great indicator in one's spiritual life also. My sin, my guilt, my shame, all cause me pain in my heart; and they eventually push their way into my relationships, making me say and act in ways that I loath. But pain doesn't just hurt, it can help. I don't want to live with the ache. I don't like to exist in the hurt. The pain is a sign, a symptom, that I'm sick. If I didn't feel the pain I wouldn't ever look for a cure. These days I try to embrace the spiritual pain caused by my moral/willful acts and thoughts. I don't embrace it to wallow in it and perpetuate more guilt. I embrace it in order to take it to the Doctor. See, I know the one who heals me. I know the one who makes my heart ache all better. I know the one who can bandage my spiritual wounds and make me whole again. My spiritual pain gratefully pushes me ever further into the forgiving healing presence of God. "He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed." ~ 1 Pt 2:24. And it is when I receive him - in all his gracious fullness -that I move beyond myself to be a minister for others. I love the way Paul talks about this in 2 Cor 1, "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God." Amen.