I feel like Wiley Coyote. He is hungry, all he wants is to survive. To make it to the next day, the next meal, the next cliff fall. Wiley is doing absolutely everything in his power to reach his goal, his humble goal. He doesn't ask for lavish restaurant food, or need rare delicacies to make him happy. All he wants is the food source that he was created to eat, nothing more. (Sorry Roadrunner... that's you.) How does Wiley obtain his goal? By any and all means within his power! He uses his intellect, his physical abilities, and patience. He builds traps, and creates inventions to match the Roadrunner's speed. What has he gained for his efforts? 30 years of hunger! (and possibly a doctorate in engineering) I admire his will and dedication to his goals, but that doesn't fill his belly. (I will return to Wiley in a sec.) Yesterday at 9:30am I arrived at Deaconess Hospital in high spirits because for the first time in 6 months I have a real shot at getting an answer to my ailments. I was a bit nervous, but so very excited to get it done. Cherie was more worried than me I think. I was called back by the nurse to change into my oh so flattering backless gown. For the next hour or so I answered a plethora of personal questions about my health history and 10 times they asked if I knew what procedure was being preformed. "I am having a muscle biopsy on my left deltoid the size of my pinky finger." (gotta make sure they are doing the right procedure... no lobotomy for me yet!) Finally I was wheeled to the OR and prepped for surgery. The last thing I remember was a blood presure cuff tightening on my left leg.
I awoke in a small room with a nurse hovering over me. I felt great, like waking from the perfect nap. I was ready to dress and go home, but the nurse had other plans. She stated that I needed to recover for a hour to make sure there was no adverse reactions from the meds. For some reason the anesthetic they gave me made me very feisty! I felt so good that I told her thank you, but you can't keep me here against my will, I'm a grown man (I know that's debatable)! Just as I was about to rip all the tubes and bandages off Cherie came in to check in on me. I told her I was ready to go home to see the kids and the nurse wouldn't let me cause she is mean. With a confused look she stepped out to speak to the nurse about this behavior. (I knew Cherie had my back!) I smugly waited for her to come back and help me out of there. The second she came in the door I knew I was in trouble. "Zachariah! (my trouble name) leave that poor nurse alone and let her do her job!" With my head hug, I waited the last 45 min. until I was released officially. In three weeks we should have a diagnosis!
Upon returning home we went to work posting our project vehicles to raise money for bills, and to see my sister's missionary farewell next week. I have a '87 Pontiac Fiero which runs, and a non running '76 Datson pickup that I posted on Craigslist. I checked the Fiero to make sure it starts and drives. I was hoping to get $1000 for the car and $300 for the truck. As soon as I posted it I received a half dozen text from interested parties. Wow! We could have them sold in the morning and get bills paid before they get delinquent! I had three potential buyers here this morning all at the same time and I felt that they would compete for the chance to buy the vehicles... if only the Fiero would start. Two buyers left as soon as the new battery wouldn't take a charge. The third stuck around and looked at the truck too. Tears threatened to pour as he offered me $500 for both cars, a third of what I was wanting for the both together. I wanted to tinker and fix it, but both of my arms are inoperable and I didn't have the strength to do it alone. Reluctantly I accepted the offer.
After signing the titles, and counting the money I went to my room and sobbed. What more could I do to provide for my family? Why would the car act up the moment it was selling? I fell to my knees and poured my soul to my God, My loving Heavenly Father. Money didn't appear out of thin air, or a millionaire didn't come drop a sack of gold on the doorstep. I did however feel overwhelming peace. I am $500 better off than I was, my "belly" would be full. That, my friends is the difference between Wiley Coyote and me. I asked for help. I know I cant do it alone, I know the Lord has prepared people in my life to assist and uplift me if I but ask. Praise be to him and his plan, I don't know what comes next and that is OK. I am at peace, and my family will be fed. Don't let pride keep you from blessings that are waiting for you.Ask and ye shall receive, knock and it shall be opened unto you...
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