Flu Season

'Flu Season' is probably my favourite Parks and Recreation episode. I've watched it at least three times and I consistently can't breathe for laughing over Leslie's flu-ridden attempts at going about her everyday life. (Pictured above: "Does this scarf look okay?")

While it's funny to see the indomitable Leslie Knope and the seemingly-perfect Chris Traeger succumb to the flu, it's infinitely less fun to experience it myself. I woke up on Friday morning with a sore throat that I thought at worst would develop into a tiny cold. Five days in bed later, here I am. I think it's safe to say that I (much like Google) am not the best predictor of what an illness is and how long it's going to last.

I know everybody hates being sick, but I feel like I have to say here that I hate being sick. This is the second time this year that I've picked up something nasty and to say it's been frustrating for me would be a huge understatement.

I spent most of the weekend in bed, cancelling dessert plans that I had looked forward to and tossing angrily on my germ-laden sheets (which, in case you were wondering, I have since washed). My headache and sore throat refused to be cured and I got so sick of lying in bed doing nothing. I even got sick of watching TV, which is really saying something.

At this point, you may be thinking that I was being a brat about it, and in some ways you'd be completely right. After all, it was just the flu*. Yeah, I was in bed for a few days, but I didn't miss an insurmountable amount of school or work and there will be no long-term ramifications of the last few days. There are so many people who experience far greater physical, mental and emotional distress for far longer stretches of time.

I was struck by many of these thoughts when reading a post that a friend wrote recently about coming to terms with long-term suffering. The situation described in that post -- one of chronic, seemingly-incurable pain -- put my bout of flu into some much-needed perspective.

When I looked past the physical discomfort, though, I think there was a deeper reason for my frustration with the flu, and it was this: when I am sick, I am not being productive and deep down, I think that I need to constantly be doing something in order to be valuable to God.

I know, I know; about a million different Christian authors have written about 'knowing you're loved because of who you are' are in the last year alone, not the mention the fact that it comes up consistently in the Bible. Maybe it's because I haven't been paying attention to those passages or the Amazon bestseller lists, but somehow, at some point, this belief took root, and over the years it's become deeply rooted in my sense of identity.

I don't think it helped that my flawed belief seemed to be confirmed when I finally went back to school and work. I missed a test while I was away and when I handed in my medical certificate the response I got was more incredulous than sympathetic; ditto for work. I've always prided myself on having a strong work ethic and to have that fact doubted really hurt; I spent a lot of time wondering whether I really was sick enough to stay at home despite the fact that a medical professional had pronounced me so.

I guess that's the thing, though, isn't it? The world values me for my productivity; Jesus does not.

Even looking at that sentence makes me laugh in disbelief. How can Jesus not value me for my productivity? What use am I to him when I'm lying in bed? How on earth could he love me when I am not doing anything?

I see the problems in these statements. If I believed them fully I would be utterly devaluing people with illnesses or disabilities that prevent them from working. I would be saying that I only valued my friends when they worked and not when they sit and drink tea with me. I would be saying that no-one should ever take a break, have fun or sleep. I don't believe any of these things; not for a minute.

But I do believe that I have to be as productive as possible in order for God to love me, and that's a problem.

Having the flu has brought all of these questions to the surface and for that I'm (kinda) grateful. It's time to reexamine the standards I've lived my life by.

I know that there's not a twelve-step plan to getting rid of this belief and replacing it with better ones. It'll take time and work and adjustment and even with all that, I'm not sure I'll get there. But I'm willing to try.

And that's something.

* It was either the flu or a flu-like illness, according to my GP. For simplicity's sake, I'll continue referring to it as the flu.