Originally, this post was to be titled “Debbi and the Terrible, Horrible, No-good, Very Bad Day.” Because really, when your day starts at 2:45 A.M. to the sound of your dog tossing his…um…dog cookies all over your wood floors, you can pretty much tell what kind of day it’s going to be.
But ironically, as the dark rain clouds moved in, my mood actually lightened. As the weather turned gloomier and gloomier outside, conditions inside my home and my life improved.
Let me back up a bit.
At 2:45, I was awakened by the sound of three things: the incessant click-click-clacking of our dog’s nails against the wood and tile floors as he walked lap after lap around the first floor of our house; followed by the sound of our dog tossing his dog cookies onto the wood floor in the living room; followed by a whine to be let out in the yard. By now, I am fully awake – and fully not happy for having to clean up the mess…and the smell…of what awaits me. As I walk with Culvert to let him out into the yard, I notice he is stumbling, disoriented, and completely unstable on his legs. In the short walk to the back door, both his front and back legs give out several times and he crashes to the floor. I am moderately alarmed by this…but it’s 2:45 A.M. and it’s not like I can just hop into the car and dash to the vet. Hoping he’s just mildly dehydrated from…well, you know…I decide to wait until morning…well, LATER morning…and hope he improves. So I climb back into bed…
…and lie awake for the next two hours. Sick dog + insomnia = a pretty crappy start to my day.
Later morning does not show much improvement. In fact, things go from bad to worse quickly. In the span of an hour, Culvert manages to toss more dog cookies for a grand total of 4 more times. And each time I get to deal with the smell and the mess. And each time he becomes more disoriented, more unstable, more unable to walk or hold himself up.
Matt instructs us to tell Culvert good-bye before he heads off to take him to the vet.
With tears in our eyes, the kids and I get into the car to drive to school. That chicken I was supposed to be marinating for dinner? Didn’t happen. That breakfast I was supposed to cook for Matt and I to enjoy before work? Not done. That to-do list I was supposed to create for my mom who was coming to clean while I was working? Not even close. And let’s not even get started on the Bible study assignment that I’m supposed to have prepared for tonight.
We get to school and the parking lot’s full.
I go to put my lunch in the faculty lounge refrigerator and there’s no room.
The vet thinks Culvert may have had a stroke. Matt has already signed the forms to have Culvert euthanized if necessary.
My smart board is not working.
My pencil sharpener is broken.
The students had to have indoor recess yet again because it started to rain right before lunch.
And I’m having a bad hair day because of all that dadgum humidity!
Slowly, slowly, things begin to turn around. No, my hair never gets quite right, but the lab results from Culvert’s blood work indicate that it may not have been a stroke. Rather, something called “vestibular syndrome”, which presents like a stroke, but usually clears on its own. They keep him for the day to monitor him and release him to us at the end of the day.
He’s not out of the woods yet, and he’s definitely not well, but he’s better than he was this morning.
And when I come home from work, there’s an envelope on the kitchen island waiting for us. An envelope representing God’s provision for our family. An enevelope containing more than we had expected, more than I had asked for…more than I had even dared to hope for. An envelope that will relieve some of the stress and anxiety that Matt has been facing for the past few months. An envelope that was a little hug to us from our Abba Father, reminding us that He truly does care about His children.
And though my pencil sharpener is still horrifically loud and screechy and my smart board still is on the fritz, and indoor recess was, well, indoor recess…I was reminded of the beauty of silver linings.
The joy of unexpected blessings.
The warmth of being on the receiving end of God’s goodness.
The rainbow behind the storm clouds.
And the hope that springs eternal when we believe in God’s faithfulness.