My Covid Story

Around Thanksgiving I got Covid. I work in a doctor’s office, so eventually all of our staff got the disease as did our immediate family.

Symptoms and severity sorted out by age. The youngest two had the mildest symptoms, the oldest–me, ended up in the ER for a day, facing a diagnosis of damage to my heart and lungs.

First, let me say, that I am mending. I am the recipient of miracles and healing.

But the 24 hours leading up to the ER visit were really scary. The day in the ER was a gift. The oxygen machine they sent me home with was a gift.

And my current pulse, O2 stats, and general health–belong to the grace of my Ransomer.

Jesus gave me miracles, as He has done my whole life.

Covid is a really scary disease. It leaves some scars. It leaves fear and memory of the pain and uncertainty.

But Jesus is bigger than mountains. Jesus is bigger than tiny killer viral agents.

And Jesus never walks away from us.

I know I have been saved and given the gift of my life back.

I will do what I can to praise the One who saved me.

And I will use these beautiful lungs to pray for all of us.

That we feel him there with us,

No matter what.

2 thoughts on “My Covid Story

    • Yes! I sort back to my “learning curve” with Covid—I never underestimated it intellectually. I knew it was crazy contagious and highly variable in its intensity. I knew it had a long menu of symptoms and that getting it did not confer the kind of immunity one would hope for.

      And we are a doc’s office. I “love the smell of Lysol in the morning.” Yet there it was. It raced through us like wildfire.

      And it was so scary and painful and uncertain.

      I say all this to emphasize—God is a God of impossible miracles and ordinary daily miracles, and I am grateful for both kinds,

      As I am grateful for you, dear friend

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