There are two ways to live. One is as if nothing were a miracle. The other is as if everything were a miracle.
I’ve always been a miracle sort of girl. It’s like a game to me, to try and find God in all the details of my life. But all of a sudden, it’s seems less like a game and more like a lifeline.
The biopsy yesterday afternoon sucked. No other way to put it. The doctors had to get several specimens from two different spots. For one of the spots, they could give me local anesthesia, but for the second spot, they could not. And it hurt. Bad. And the drug they gave me to stop any bleeding made me nauseous and totally tanked my blood pressure, so I ended up fainting. And I got the chills. And started shaking. Epinephrine or whatever it is called is permanently off my list of safe medications. Yuck.
But. There is always a but.
I delivered chocolate to the nurses’ station right after lunch- just before the biopsy. So as I was struggling to regain my equilibrium and fighting off the torrent of tears caused by the pain and emotions of the day, one by one, the nurses started coming in and thanking me for candy. I gave it to them as a thank you for their kindness and yet, they hunted me down in my feeble state and lifted me up with words of appreciation. My mini act of kindness came back to me ten fold, just when I needed it most. A miracle.
Saul and I pulled into the driveway after a 2 hour drive home and the first thing I noticed is that I had forgotten to take out the garbage that morning. Now we were going to have stinky, overflowing garbage hanging out in our garage for another week. I was annoyed at myself over something small that seemed monumental in my eyes. I made a comment and Saul gently assured me that he would magically make the garbage disappear. I love that man.
Anyway, early this morning, I noticed all of the neighbors dragging out their recycling and garbage bins. A day late. Then it dawned on me that the garbage schedule was a day late because of Memorial Day. All of a sudden, as I looked out my kitchen window, I felt the sweetest peace and presence filling me. God softly whispering, “Yes, Nic, I can even take care of the garbage for you.”
