I have no voice, my dog pees on the couch, and I need the Eucharist

The devil took my voice.

Honestly, people? The spiritual struggle is real.

First of all, my most sincere apologies to the poor man who sat in the waiting area of the orthodontist with me on Holy Thursday, as it was right there that I morphed into a petri dish of his worst bacterial nightmare. Fever, constant cough, and general grossness happened right before this man's eyes. Wonder how he is feeling today....

Since Monday I have had no voice. ME. Not talking. That is like asking the Pope to stop praying. Or Connecticut to stop snowing. Or the dog to stop peeing on the corners of the couch. It is killing me, folks.

But God can work with this, and He still shows up, and despite a 17 page script I was supposed to read yesterday at a Walking With Purpose event, He used other women and voices, and dare I say things went better than planned, and who knows, maybe my being quiet is not such a bad thing after all.

Because guess what? When you can't talk you have no choice but to listen. And I think we are all really good at saying what we need to say...but the listening thing? Some of us can use a little work. And by some of us, I mean me. And maybe my husband. And all of my children. And the dogs.

So today, in my silence...while my urge is to stay curled up in my sweats and stay inside where it is warm and dry...I did read the Gospel of Luke (24:13-35) , and am thinking I really need me some Eucharist. Because when you can't talk and the sickness lingers and you have really fun things planned like Instagram LIVE tomorrow at 10am but you have no voice....and you start feeling a little downcast and disappointed and hope feels out of reach...I am reminded about the breaking and the broken. The bread and the offering. The sacrifice and the sharing. And how very much I need to receive this reminder DAILY...because along with laryngitis, I swear I have amnesia; always forgetting how Christ is with me when he appears gone, always losing sight of who he is and what he has done, failing to see him in the everyday things.

I think when we feel sick and tired and life's circumstances appear unfair, we all too easily lose sight of God. I think when we allow ourselves to stay downcast we run the risk of falling into old habits, going back to our old ways, allowing Jesus to become a friend we no longer recognize. This is when we need to seek him out most. When we need to run to that table he sets before us daily, open our eyes, and allow him to make himself known to us in the breaking of the bread.