refuse plague?

Finally my child is sleeping. And that is because I have broken the government's guidelines and given him cough medicine....
Apparently we do not give under twelves  cough medicine any more. No one seems to have a reason for this, except one very sweet lady, called Pam, who told me very caringly and lovingly that there was something in cough medicine that "gave small children nightmares."
"Well my child is massive, Pam, and I'd think he'd be glad of a nightmare or two, so long as he could sleep for a bit..." I decide to go all out with Pam, as I can already tell she is not going to sell me any Tixylix, and have hatched my secret plan to go to the chemist down the road. Alfie coughs on cue, writhing with the agony of the muscles he's pulled from coughing for six days and nights...One of his eyes alarmingly larger than the other, both blood shot and streaming, "Sorry, Pam," I smile sweetly as she inadvertently covers her mouth, "do you have a bowl? I think he maybe coughing up his spleen here..."
I drive to the next chemist, I leave my child wrapped in a blanket in the car.
I go in, Pam 2, is stalwart and slightly obese behind the counter, "Can I have a bottle of Tixylix 6 plus, please."
"How old is the child because you can't give this unless they are six and over..."
"Seven. Eighth of the third o five."
Pam 2 begrudgingly sells me the Tixylix and I run to the car to administer it.
Driving home with a finally still child, I find we are behind a refuse truck, I'm following it for some time, feeling the tension of the last week starting to subside, when I notice fluid streaming from the part of the truck that contains the food waste bags, the liquid from the rotting food bags liberally being sprayed out all across the city, the sun warming it nicely...
The words of the Doctor at casualty the night before come streaming back to me, "We wouldn't give antibiotics for a virus...he's very run down, and there are a lot of virulent bugs around..." And I'm staring at the back of the truck wondering if I am seeing the breeding ground of the plague that my poor child has had to fight off without medication for a week?

2 Corinthians 5: 17

"therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation, the old one is gone."

I have a heart for changing the beds and making hot water bottles,

telling stories and thinking up funny things to say.

For spring bulbs, garden sheds and compost.

I have a heart for baking cakes and pies, making soups and stews,

brewing endless pots of tea and holding hands,

walking by the sea and wiping brows and tears and noses!

Bandages, plasters and cuddles, funny tap dances

and good night prayers, waking up in the middle of the night
and running up and down the stairs.

I have a heart for knitting scarfs and sewing buttons back on,

playing power rangers, hide and seek, and even doing jig saw puzzles.

This is the heart Jesus gave me,  a heart I will share with you.

you are still wordly

1 Corinthians 14:33-35

³³ For God is not a God of disorder but of peace—as in all the congregations of the Lord’s people.

 ³⁴ Women should remain silent in the churches. They are not allowed to speak, but must be in submission, as the law says. ³⁵ If they want to inquire about something, they should ask their own husbands at home; for it is disgraceful for a woman to speak in the church.

Paul isn't the feminist's apostle.

But no matter because I'm not a feminist.
(Is it a lie that a woman would want to work a forty hour week, raise her children, keep her home and her husband and still find time for the gym?)

I don't know anything about this except Jesus knows the heart he gave you and in me is little desire to fix the car.