I woke up this morning, felt the cramps in my stomach, and in that half dreaming, half awake state, thought it was the dream part of my stomach talking. But alas it wasn't. 3 times in 2 weeks?!? What's going on? Grr.

I got up and decided I would have to hide my sickness. I had a talk to do today at a private school in Dee Why and I wasn't going to be stopped. I didn't talk on Sunday but this time I decided my sickness wasn't going to stop the gospel. I got ready and tried to figure out how to go about doing minimal damage till it was time to talk. I had my quiet time, and had a sleep, and kept praying to get better.

I figured, while I had my shower, that I would probably get to this point on the way to the talk where I would feel so bad that I wouldn't be able to go on. But once I got there it would be fine. I was hoping that, perhaps, once I had done the talk I would feel completely better.

I had been planning to finish working on my talk (which was pretty bare bones when I went to bed last night) this morning but I wasn't able to concentrate. I thought I might be able to work on it in the car, but that didn't work either.

By the time I left I was feeling pretty terrible. I started having thoughts about going home again. I got to Willow Park and changed lanes to turn around and go back home, but I felt a strong call back towards Dee Why. So I got back in my lane and kept going. By the time I got to Turramurra I thought to myself, "God is bigger than me, He can get on without me." And I turned into a side street to call the school and tell them I wasn't coming, but the guy who organised me wasn't answering his phone, so I had to keep going. It was too late to turn back.

I arrived at the school dreaming of porcelain, the whole drive had been horrible, and I hadn't done any planning of the talk. "God give me strength and give me a talk." I went into the school's reception and told them who I was. I forgot how to spell Chapel in the guest book so I just wrote "Chaplin".

Soon the Chaplin came out to meet me and he took me to the school hall. It was very large and full of hundreds of plastic chairs all in perfect lines, in four house groups. We had a short chat till we were descended upon by about 500 hundred kids in blue blazers, all looking particularly private school.

When everyone was seated the Chaplin got up, prayed then introduced me. It was as quick as that.

I don't remember much of the talk except that it went well and I felt fine. I didn't feel sick in the slightest, I just talked. It was great. God provided. They laughed in the right places, and were quiet when I was serious. I talked about the fact that grace is free and we don't have to, in fact cannot, earn it. I told the Christians to stop trying to earn it, and I told the non-Christians to get it. It felt good. It is good to talk about Jesus, it's good to talk about grace.

After the talk I got down and everything finished up. I started to get hot and sweaty. I felt like I was going vomit. The Chaplin came up to talk to me and all I could manage to get out was "Mmmhmm", a few kids came over too and I could barely say anything in case I exploded on them. It was most difficult. I felt very rude. I hope they don't think I was rude.

Once the vomit subsided I felt pretty good though. I got a box of chocolates for my speaking efforts. They were wrapped in a plastic bag which, at that stage, was more appealing than the chocolates, a safety device in case the vomit came back as I drove home.

At home I slept then went to see the doctor. He wasn't all that informative except said that perhaps I could be allergic to something. That would be distressing. I like everything I eat. What if I'm allergic to dairy? Or worse, McDonald's?

Tonight I've downloaded a lot of music legally. It's great. I'm not sure what I'll do with it but it's fun.

I want to go to work tomorrow, but I'm not. I hate missing work.