Feverish Grace

Every time I push myself too hard, string too many things together without leaving time for rest, fever comes. There are no other symptoms, only the ache of my body and the burning of my head as I lay down in the sweltering afternoon. It is as if my body has soaked up too much heat from the strain of the Indian sun and refuses to relinquish its burning until I pause long enough to cool down. Within a few hours of rest, several glasses of water, I am fine. I ask for grace and dive into another day. I am birthed, fed, rested, sustained by something beyond me.