Three days ago, I somehow came down with Strep Throat - not sure where I got it from, but boy has it been miserable! My tonsils are very swollen and just to swallow is agonizing! I had two sleepless nights because just having to swallow my own saliva production was keeping me in constant pain.
With that, Sunday approached. I debated if we should take the Sacrament, as I did not want to pass any germs to my family. We decided to do so, and I sanitized my hands and wore a mask during the ordinance.
I usually look forward to the Sacrament, but I was dreading that piece of bread (I chose the smallest piece) and cup of water because of the pain I felt when swallowing.
I thought of the Savior, and this account from Matthew 26:36-39:
"Then cometh Jesus with them unto a place called Gethsemane, and saith unto the disciples...My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death: tarry ye here, and watch with me.And he went a little further, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt."
It suddenly felt very appropriate that this small cup that I was to drink - representing the bitter cup that the Savior drank for me - was to be excruciating to me. I grimaced as I swallowed it because of the pain I felt, and yet that pain was nothing - NOTHING - compared to the pain and sorrow and anguish and grief inherent in the Savior's Bitter Cup.
It seemed fitting that this cup - which represents not cool, refreshing water but the blood of the Savior - should be bitter to me instead of refreshing.
If for nothing else, I am grateful for this illness because of what it has allowed God to teach me about His Son, and the Atonement, and the Sacrament.
And I am grateful - so grateful - to my Savior Jesus Christ for partaking of His Bitter Cup, when it was infinitely more painful than what I took, and full to the brim instead of a mere sip.
How I love Him!
In Jesus' name, Amen.
(Adam Abrams, Gethsemane, © 2008 Adam Abrams.)
