Let me state the irony: I wrote a whole book on living a sent life as if applies to me. I’m always praying that God would send me. I didn’t expect to be the recipient of God sending you.
It started this morning when I was worried about what to actually do about Covid. We didn’t qualify for the antivirals, and the local doctor suggested we just wait it out. But it’s so hard to wait when you feel terrible and you’re scared. Just as I’m thinking these things, I receive two different messages from my most intelligent friends suggesting a protocol of vitamins. Another friend provided a pulse oximeter as if she were God’s personal answer to our prayers. (It does provide some peace to know you’re getting enough oxygen.) Later, when our sore throats were raging and all I wanted was an icy cold popsicle, my friend Sandy dropped my favorite kind off on the doorstep as if sent by an angel. Maybe she was. I never even mentioned popsicles to anyone, yet God put them on her heart.
God also provided a kind tele-heath doctor who made me laugh on the phone. I told him I surely qualified for the antivirals because I’m so unhealthy and so overweight. I’d been feeling like a big blob ever since my surgeries. He laughed and said, “You’re not that bad!” I said, “We’ll, I’m not at my Weight Watchers goal.” He said, “You’ll reach your goal in no time!” He was so kind and so encouraging that I got off the phone thinking, I will! I will reach my Weight Watchers goal!
I wasn’t sent to anyone today. You all were sent to me. And now I’m crying.