Have you ever noticed how physical, bodily experiences can so easily consume your thoughts? I suppose it’s kind of obvious, but it struck me this morning. I’ve been sick with a cough for the past several days. Today it was being especially obnoxious during church–I felt like I was interrupting the sermon every time I turned and coughed into my elbow. But I found I could barely concentrate on the message. It was something about prayer, and that’s all I remember. I could tell you a few illustrations, and I know he pulled a few verses out of Isaiah, but I wasn’t following him at all. My mind was preoccupied with my physical discomfort, and I couldn’t think about anything else. I find that kind of interesting. It really makes me wonder how people can endure torture. I also can’t help but wonder if it means I’m just that much of a wuss.