They say that "All's well that ends well, and yesterday certainly bore that out. Though, I must say, that's one day I'd rather not repeat for a long, long time (and never ever would suit me just fine).
It began at 3 a.m. when I woke with an irritated feeling. Nothing I could pinpoint, but just a restless, something-isn't-right feeling.
Moments later, I was kicking out from under the sheet and feeling panicky. Then it hit me ... I was reacting to a new medication -- "flushing" from head to toe.
By the time my feet hit the floor, my face was red and hot to the touch. Within 15 minutes, it had crept southward to my entire trunk, arms and legs.
I knew the routine and I knew what to do -- grab something cold to drink and a snack, and get somewhere cool -- like in front of the air conditioner. It worked and I survived, but now I was wide awake at four in the morning.
In the meantime my hubby had gotten up, taken one look at me and said "WOW." I don't think he was smitten by my bedhead and frumpled look -- he was commenting on my new skin tone: fire-engine red.
So what does one do at 4 AM when she can't get back to sleep? The same thing all the rest of you do, I betcha. I did some reading, surfed the internet and sent out some emails to fellow writers on my team. Next, I grabbed a quick shower so I could be ready to take my Mom for a very-early dental appointment.
Just out of the shower, my arms began to itch like crazy... as if ants were crawling under the surface of my skin. Crazy, huh? I rubbed and scratched and applied lotion and washed it back off again. The itching was getting much worse and I was getting panicky.
Then it hit me -- I had failed to put on sunblock the day before and my arms had a bit of sunburn. Just last month I found out I'm sun-sensitive due to a beta blocker for my atrial fibrillation. So ...
What's the chance of two different reactions on the same morning? I don't know, but I didn't have *time* for all of that! Grabbing cool cloths, I applied them to my arms and plopped down in front of the air again... praying, crying out to the Lord for help. And the clock kept right on ticking ...
Back in the bathroom to dry my hair and get dressed, I spied the sun-blocker the doctor had prescribed and slathered it on for the day ahead. My itching subsided within seconds. Thank You, Lord!
No time for breakfast now -- I dashed out the door, patted my doggie on the head and told him what I always tell him "Be a good boy. I'll be back after while, Lord willing." He usually whines a bit and plops his rear on the carport to watch me leave.
Yesterday, when I turned at the end of our driveway and started up the hill, I heard a loud thump on the right side of the car. Oh dear, had our neighbors left something near the road?
When I looked in my rear-view mirror, my heart nearly broke. It was our little Sport, and I'd just hit him with the car! He was half-running back to the drive where he dove into the drain pipe and disappeared.
I stopped the car, ran back to him and pleaded for him to come out. I needed to see if he was okay! Poor little guy would *not* come out, no matter how much I tried. The clock was ticking, and I had to go ...
Back in the car, my thoughts whirled and tumbled. I was quite sure nothing was broken, or he couldn't have run off. But what if I'd damaged him internally? Leaving him there was torment.
Would he stay in the drain pipe, go to sleep and die of heat exhaustion? Was he bleeding internally? Did he have head injuries? That's one of the longest days I've ever experienced -- leaving him behind because he was half-way into a 12-foot-pipe and wouldn't come out.
When I got back home, I looked for him there, but he wasn't there. That gave me a bit of hope! I went to the barn, the tractor shed, the neighbor's (where he has a girl-friend) and still couldn't find him anywhere.
I called and called, but he didn't come. Maybe he was *unable* to come. That was an even sadder thought.
All's well that ends well, right? Last night about 9:00, our doggie came hobbling into the yard. Today he is very stiff and sore, and we think the bumper must have caught his right flank.
There are no cuts and he is back to being himself other than walking like a little old man. I am so very grateful. This is the first time he's ever chased the car, and I hope it's the last.
Not every story has a happy ending. Sometimes it seems as if the first thing that goes wrong begins to snowball, collecting other bad things along the way. We get discouraged and defeated and plain ol' despondent.
We look for that cool drink in the midst of our fiery trials. We camp out in front of our virtual air conditioners and fan ourselves while whining and complaining to the Lord.
Thankfully, not every day starts out and progresses like my yesterday, and I'm glad the Lord cares about me in the midst of my pity parties. I'm also thankful He has promised that one day, the "bad" things in this life are going to end when He returns. And truly, at that moment, we can say,
All's well that ends well. Forever and ever!