When someone puts Annie on vocal rest.

Here’s a weird thing.

I have bacterial laryngitis.

It happened like this: I thought I was just having bad allergies all of last week. I was blowing my nose all day and coughing all night. Like literally, Good Friday was my last full night of sleep. And it wasn’t like I was waking up and falling back asleep- starting the night before Easter, I was waking up and coughing/sneezing/face exploding for HOURS. Like, long enough that I watched the cartoon version of Robin Hood. Two nights in a row.

(Which, by the way, have you ever heard Mumford & Sons cover “Not in Nottingham”? Wowie zowie. I’ll just put the video right here and you can play it as you keep reading.)

Anyways. So I watched the whole cartoon movie. Twice.

Friday came along and I realized that my voice was almost totally gone. And I just keep feeling worse. Like I would go to a work meeting, come home and crawl into bed for an hour, then go to the next one. “These allergies ARE KILLING ME!” I would think.

I’m a dummy.

So on Saturday, I went to the doctor. Because I should have gone a week before.

The doctor was all, “you should have come in here a week before; what started simple is no longer simple. You dummy.”

No, she didn’t actually call me a dummy. But her eyes did.

And then she said bacterial laryngitis, and then she put a steroid shot in my butt, then she said “don’t talk for some days.”


Hi. I’m Annie. If I’m not sleeping, THERE IS A GOOD CHANCE I AM TALKING.

It’s been a weird few days, to be sure.

And here is what I’ve learned:

I’ve been told this before, but I have re-learned I’m a filler. If a quiet moment is happening, I will fill it with words. When no voice comes out of my voice, the spaces don’t get filled. And it was good.

I also have learned that when I don’t throw out my problem-solving ideas, someone else solves the problem.

I’ve learned that I’m not as important as I think I am.

It’s been humbling. Clearly.

And good. Clearly.

You know my word for 2015 has been SABBATH and I have done terrible at it. I mean, TERRIBLE. The Lord majorly got onto me about it yesterday when I was journaling and praying. Like, there’s nothing impressive about working a lot. There’s nothing “cool” about not making time for what we are commanded to make time for. The first third of this year I have missed time with God that would have made a difference in my life because I don’t make space. I’m no busier than you or him or her. We all have the same amount of hours in a day. I just waste more.

So without a voice, without the ability to get coffee with friends or call people back or talk to anyone who will listen, I sat quietly for two days.

Also. I’ve gone through a significant amount of cough drops and I had no idea a steroid shot in your butt could make you feel like a super hero (with no voice) the next morning.

These are the things I’ve learned from a forced Sabbath.

I hope I choose it from now on.

. . . . .

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