I’m having a wonderfully enjoyable sick day at home, listening to the rain dance on my windows and enjoying a day of lounging around and not doing much.
Of course, my mind is racing with a huge, long list of to-do items, but I realize that most of those things will have to wait. Today I’m just going to rest. And maybe work on a road trip play list for my trip to float the river this coming weekend.
Last night I had a bit of an asthma scare that took me to the ER… I literally could not breathe (I’ll admit, I was scared), but after three breathing treatments and more steroids than a Yankee power hitter, I’m feeling much better. Exhausted since I was up all night, but breathing normally and with only a trace of that old lady smoker’s cough I had been sporting all weekend. So attractive. I’ve had my asthma my whole life, and had been proud of my record of zero ER visits–I take great pride in being able to treat my asthma with some prescription drugs, a little caffeine (it can work wonders) and just lying still and staying calm. But last night none of that seemed to work, so off I went, in my PJs and without any makeup. I’m sure all of my coworkers in the ER were quite shocked to see what I really look like under my beloved MAC concealer and mascara. It ain’t that pretty, folks.
Today Beth Moore posted the most wonderful blog… you’ll have to check it out for yourself. I completely agree with her premise that our God is a God of details. His timing is perfect, and he can perform great and mighty miracles. But he also performs little miracles that minister to me in exactly the way I need it.
For instance… one time I was really grieving over a broken relationship. My heart was broken, and I mean BROKEN. One night, at my lowest point, I had a dream that the boy’s mom came to visit me and told me that I would be okay. That I was going to be fine, that she still loved me (I was very close to this guy’s mom and missed her dearly) and that I would be much better off following God’s plan for me, which didn’t include this boy. For some reason, that dream brought me so much more comfort than anything my friends or family could tell me. I really believe God orchestrated that silly little dream to comfort his grieving child and renew my spirit so I could keep plugging along.
Another time, I got this overwhelming urge to call a girl who used to be in my Sunday School class. She had stopped coming a few months previously, and honestly I had been so busy that I hadn’t followed up with her like I should. But one night, it just hit me as I was heading home from an errand that I should call this girl NOW. Not knowing why, I picked up the phone and called the girl, only to find out that she was in a total crisis and needed help that very night. Within a few hours some of our other girls had rallied together to help this gal get through what was probably one of the hardest weeks of her life. I take no credit, I just followed what I know was the Holy Spirit’s very persistent push. Luckily, sometimes he speaks so loudly that even this dense blonde girl can hear it.