I covered my head with the sheet trying to dim the bright lights. I pulled myself up on the pillow to make breathing a little easier. Though sleep eluded me, my exhausted body was relieved to finally lie down. Twelve hours earlier I had crawled out of my bed at home, never imagining that after hours of walking from building to building, test to test, and doctor to doctor I would be placed in the “infectious disease ward” overnight. Much less 9 nights…
Our holiday was just coming to a close, and after a rough winter I was still exhausted. My heart was heavy and discouraged. Frustrated, beaten down, hurt and disillusioned, I just felt tired. Weeks before, I had come across Psalm 40. Feeling stuck, I begged God for help clinging to the hope His words brought:
“…He drew me up from the pit of destruction,
out of the miry bog,
and set my feet upon a rock,
making my steps secure.
He put a new song in my mouth,
a song of praise to our God…”
I asked for a new song, but it would take time.
On a Sunday, several weeks later I was still feeling low. That morning as our little team worshipped together I struggled to keep my head up. After our meeting we began to prepare lunch together. As I cracked eggs for our meal, I found several that were obviously spoiled. We joked about getting the bird flu. It was the talk of the town at the time. It was going around in our city and several people had died. One teammate quickly decided he didn’t care for any eggs, he didn’t want any chance of catching the dreaded flu. I laughed and mumbled to myself “I don’t care if I do”. I almost surprised myself at how little I cared.
I went home after lunch, and really very suddenly started feeling ill. I thought it strange I should feel achy, but decided a nap would help. Waking several hours later I felt worse. Much worse. Four days later, I was still lying and bed and had eaten very little, still with a severe headache and persistent fever, I forced myself to get up to go see a doctor. I felt hopeful… maybe they could tell me what was wrong and I could just go back home and get in bed.
After hours of walking from building to building and waiting on results, I finally had an X-ray in hand. I took it back to the doctor, desperate to hear anything so we could be done. She took one look and stated emphatically “Pneumonia. Stay in the hospital!” I laughed in disbelief. “Really?!” Surely this wasn’t really necessary. “How long?” I asked. “A week”. I laughed again. I knew she was serious, but so was I. I was seriously going to go home. After traveling across the city to another hospital for a second opinion, we ended up right back where we started. The risk of bird flu was too high and they had quarantined everyone to the main hospital. So, I accepted my fate. I would be staying. At that point, I was really too tired to care anymore.
They led us to the back building, and I had to smile at the sign “infectious diseases ward” welcoming us. Nobody wanted me anywhere else in the hospital. I could see the panic in their eyes, everywhere I went. When they heard my symptoms and then looked up and saw I was a foreigner, their eyes would grow wide and they would send me off to someone else. No one wanted to be responsible if I were to be the next victim. We tried to laugh at the fact that if I didn’t already have an “infectious disease” I probably would by the time the night was over. At the end of the hall in a tiny concrete room, they gave me what was probably the only available bed, right between two other coughing patients. My boss demanded I keep my medical mask on through the night. I was simply grateful to lie down after the almost twelve hour ordeal.
As my friends left me to return home for the night, I finally caught up with what was happening. Mostly relieved to have a place to lie down, I didn’t really mind the dungeon like room and coughing roommates. As I laid in bed squinting in the bright light and taking heaving breaths, I began to imagine what it would feel like to be normal again. I just wanted to breath easy, feel a fresh breeze, and walk with energy in my step. I imagined what it would feel like to be well again and walk my normal route to work. I thought, “ahh, yes. that’s something to look forward to. I’ll be so thankful THEN”.
Like a wave rolling over me, I heard His still small voice. “Then?” “What about right now?” In a moment the recent weeks of heartache, struggle, and fears circled through my mind. I had been so caught up with the things I wanted to change, I had forgotten what thankfulness even felt like. Thankful now? But for what? “My grace” He whispered. Suddenly I could see the cross, and the song “How Deep the Father’s Love for Us” began to play in my mind as I remembered all that He his love has done. He not only died for me, but He lives IN me. The tears began to fall, as conviction and repentance came together. My heart received His invitation to remember this grace, and I whispered “Gan En”–thankful.
Gan En was fairly new to my vocabulary, but it felt natural to use it. It was a word I often heard believers’ use to express heartfelt thanks for Father’s work. I felt GanEn and so it just came out. But when I said it this time, I heard it unlike I had heard it before. I realized that though this was a new word, I had known it’s meaning long before. I had learned “gan” which meant to be touched or moved, inside, in your soul. “en” was a word we used all the time “grace”. I knew “gan en” expressed a thankful heart, but now I realized that it was a combination of these two words that meant thankful. To be moved by grace. Thankfulness is a natural outpouring of being moved by grace. His grace had touched my heart, and in a moment the bitter hard demands had melted into thankfulness and praise. I had been stuck for so long, and it was His grace that moved me. It was Him who moved me. Grace reached in to soften and lift a hard and heavy heart, thankfulness was simply an overflow of what He had put in.
This grace not only opened my eyes, but it carried me all the way through.. not just that first night but the 9 more that were to come. Separated from family and friends, in a hospital with doctors who only spoke a foreign language, intense physical pain and discomfort, I experienced some of the hardest nights I’ve known—yet. Yet, I experienced joy I cannot even describe. While I sat in discomfort, His grace carried my heart to the top of the mountain, and it sang for joy–touched by a grace that would consider one such as I.
“He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God…”!
“那么，既然我们承受的是一个不能被震动的国度，就要感恩，用虔诚和敬畏的心事奉上帝，讨祂喜悦…
…Since we are receiving our rights to an unshakeable kingdom we should be extremely thankful and offer God the purest worship that delights his heart as we lay down our lives in absolute surrender, filled with awe” Hebrews 12:28
