I often say every day is a new day, which of course it is. But, every new day can equally be another page in an ongoing story, or it can be a new chapter, introducing twists, turns, and unforeseeable possibilities.  So while each day is new, our story is always evolving.

Our story isn’t always what we planned, the script we see playing out in our head, but it is still our story to be lived; however, we always choose the perspective. Thus the tale of my plans versus how the plans actually played out.

The old adage, “life is what happens when we are making plans”, seems to occur quite often.  I had a great week planned out; I love fall, decorating, shopping; enjoying the season of pumpkins and the colorful array of oranges, greens, yellows, reds, all my favorite colors! The Arboretum was on my list, having my small group of women over for coffee, banana bread, sharing hearts; catching up on my writing, reading; these were the added things fitted into my normal routine of meals and everyday living requiring attention. This was the Norman Rockwell picture playing in my head.

I knew Sunday evening my body was saying, “Woe, Nelly; you want to take a nap and let your body rest.” By Monday, a scratchy throat, deep cough, and fatigue were my new friends. Tuesday, it was time to call the experts. Going to the doctor, like the rest of life these days, is a new “normal.” My symptoms wouldn’t let me in the door; but curbside service would work. While I sat in my car, the doctor and I “chatted” over the phone. With sufficient information, he and a nurse pushing a cart approached my car. No hazmat suit but close enough; I was swabbed (I do not recommend this!) and then I waited. Minutes later he called to say, Covid negative, strep positive.  I was nicely lectured on what to do, what not to do, given antibiotics, and off to bedrest for me!

Within two days, symptoms were worsening and Phil drug my tired, weary Covid tested body to Dallas for further evaluation. This time, I was met with wonderful ladies who escorted me to a room where further testing would take place and hopefully things would become clearer.

What I failed to mention earlier is I’m considered “High Risk.” Not just because of my age but because I have congestive heart failure, auto immune issues that challenge my immune system to not play well, plus the fall and broken arm this past year added some other complications. Phil and the kids say I play things down but this is how I see it: Jesus knows me, He knows my heart is to love Him, and He has been walking me through physical and medical issues all my life; this is not my first rodeo! I am not foolish but neither am I fearful, a decision I made years ago. Few know about all my medical issues which is by design. I only share when that is a way to help encourage someone. I am still here which as one doctor said, “You are a living miracle, aren’t you?”  Yes…..I……am.  I give God, His wisdom, medical people, prayer all the credit.

So that is the back story to this saga of sickness. After we left Presbyterian, we pulled into Whataburger, the drive through of course since that is the new “normal.”  Sitting on the parking lot, me feeling wiped out and Phil concerned, we ate what we could. As we pulled out, I was discarding the remains of the meal when I discovered an unwrapped, warm patty melt which we did not order. It was warm, large, and neatly wrapped and sealed. Extra fries as well.  We had already left, driving to get onto the freeway while talking about this extra meal. The light caught us and we could see a man with a sign, “I’m hungry.”  I put the meal into a small sack, closed it up, while Phil got some money to go with it. Phil rolled down the window and said, “Sir, we have a nice, warm meal for you and some cash to help.” His face was filled with gratitude, and he thanked us.

I may have felt miserable, but I was so grateful to be in the right place at the right time! This is how the script played out in my head: “Guys (Jesus talking), there is going to be a man just up the road who needs to know I see him, so I have a meal for you to take to him. It’s all ready, it’s nothing you would order because this is what he likes so I custom made it for him, and put some cash with it so he knows I heard his heart. And by the way, your plans didn’t quite work out this week but you will soon return to normal. Also, it was good spending time with you this week; I really enjoy time with my kids. Now, take care of this son of mine who has hit tough times.”

Nothing in my week had been the original story in my head; my script didn’t match the one God had already written. No, He didn’t make me sick.  But in a fallen world, life happens in spite of our plans. But I chose my perspective; a young me might have been whiney and disappointed. Time, age, and experience have taught me that even when we don’t understand, we can trust. So what really happened in the week? I slowed down, rested, read, listened, met some wonderful people who put their lives on the line daily and I encouraged each one; I texted encouragement as well as receiving which I do not do well, made some people laugh and ran a stealth mission for God. All in all, His script trumped mine!  Not too shabby a week!

By the way, I’m Covid negative but strep positive; needed stronger meds. This is what I believe: God had a mission and we needed to be at the right place at the right time.

Again I could hear Jesus saying, “Your mission, if you choose to accept it…..

I think I made God laugh! I sure hope so; laughter is absolutely the BEST medicine!

A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.

Proverbs 17:22