2020 Was a Zebra of a different color. 2021 Added new features.

 A squirrel's tail. 2021 added a stinking squirrel's tail. Hang on to that mental picture, because I have no doubt this zebra is gonna look like something other-worldly by the time 2021 is done with us.

I swear, I thought last year was a year for the books. 2021 said hold my beer. Snowmageddon 2021 hitting every lower 48 except Florida...makes me wonder what kind of deal they made. Reminds me of the song the Devil went down to Georgia, but I think that should be changed to Florida. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that Florida made a deal with the devil, because I'm pretty sure they didn't. Their fiddle of gold had to be avoidance of the Snowpocolypse, I don't know. 

Anyway. Last year, early January, I had COVID before it decided to infect the world and head out to parts unknown. Thought I wouldn't get it again. 2021 snickered in the corner. All of 2020 we avoided getting it, then my hubby, who works at the airport, was in close contact with a co-worker who had it. He went through his turn first and is doing well. Mouse and I diligently tested to make sure we weren't infected. Five times we tested negative, then the day before I went back in I felt yucky. The next day, chest hurting a bit, I went to Urgent Care, tested positive, and was told that I also had pneumonia. Peachy. Mouse wasn't feeling well either, but hubby took her in the next day. She tested positive. Fast forward to the beginning of this week. I took her in to the ER, and myself with her, and they kept her, sent me home. Her lungs were pretty gunked up. She's prone to bronchitis and pneumonia anyway, I wasn't going to take chances. They got her set up and started her on Remdisivir. She has two more doses to go. That night, I slept okay, but when I woke the next morning, I knew I was off. Checked my O2 levels and found I was right. Couldn't breathe. Grabbed one of her O2 tanks, set it to 2 liters, and then took a shower after I could actually stand upright. That almost didn't work. I almost passed out. Got out, dried off, put the oxygen back on and called my primary who told me to get my butt back to the ER. 

Went back, and they were going to send me home again! Nope, not this time, Bubba. I told the Doc I didn't care what he did to keep me, even if it was only for observation, I wasn't going home. He admitted me. I was supposed to get the Remdisivir treatment, too, but my O2 levels came up just enough to knock me out of qualification. They gave me convalescent plasma instead. Night and stinking day. I'm not feeling 100%, but I feel 200% better than when I went in there. My daughter got her treatment last night, and I can already hear the difference even over the phone. 

So, why the share? Because, 38 years ago I was faced with a decision. Give my infant daughter over to the capable hands of Jesus, and by extension myself, or wing it. I decided that winging it wasn't an option. At 2:22 p.m. on October 27, 1983, I gave my life to Jesus and I have not been the same since. This year, when she contracted COVID, it was my worst nightmare knowing the ramifications that were involved with her, and I almost lost my mind. Well, yesterday I did, actually. Wasn't pretty, either. Anyway, I had a choice to make. Let myself go bananas, forget WHOSE I am, and scar up my testimony, or dig in, exercise that faith I tell everyone I have in God, and allow Him to do what He does best. I chose the latter. 

Looking back so far, I see His hand all over the place. He led us to the hospital we were in. He got the sicker of the two of us in to start treatments. He got me in when it was time to go in. Hospital beds here are still at a premium, but they were available for both of us. He made sure initially we were within a few steps of each other, until she had to be bumped up due to different oxygen needs. He sent nurses that adore/adored her and work with her special needs. He made sure my husband could be with her. Initially they said no, but when they found out he's already had it, they made the exception. Before I was released yesterday, they opened the exception to anytime during posted visiting hours, for as long as he wanted to stay there. He made sure Mouse could get the convalescent plasma treatment, which is doing very well for her. He sent me two people who listened to me lose my mind, and one of them, the Respiratory Therapist, reminded me Whose I am, and that God's got this. My words used to comfort me. Then when I was preparing to come home, I took off my t-shirt (the picture above shows what's on the back of the shirt) and realized what it said. God's hand is evident every step of the way, I just had to get out of the way and let Him handle it. 

Folks, this nastiness isn't going away anytime soon, but we can choose how we handle it. We can panic and let fear and the fight or flight mode take over, or we can get out of the way and let the One who loves you more than your own mama take control. If you don't know Him, I'd suggest paying Him a visit. You'll be glad you did. 

Going to leave you with this. God doesn't give the spirit of fear, fear is a lie from Hell itself. Trust Him, even when it looks and feels like that zebra is going to get a scary new feature. When you look back, if you trust God to handle it, you'll see His hand all over the place. 

Love you guys. Stay safe, stay healthy, and trust God.