And I mean that, in the sincerest way possible.

Last Saturday night, I finished writing a particularly intricate riddle for “Failure to Engage.” It took a considerable amount of time to complete, and I was so glad when it was finished, and read it over again with much satisfaction. I saved it to OneDrive, and continued writing.

And then… Word crashed. Not immediately, but it crashed.

But that’s fine, although irritating, because my document was saved. My riddle was safe.

But no.

I do not know how this is possible, but Word somehow overwrote my file with an older file that I overwrote the day before, and which should no longer have existed at all! And yet this happened! And I was absolutely SICK over it. And mad. I cried bitter tears. One or two, anyway. I closed my laptop in frustration, and wouldn’t you know it, the screen cracked. I did not close it hard enough to accomplish that, nor should a document that no longer exists be able to overwrite a document that does, but all of it happened. I was not having a good evening! But one of the bible classes I’m taking is Priscilla Shirer’s “One in a Million,” and the previous week’s lesson was on miracles and keeping an eye out for them, and everything that happens is an opportunity, and intended, for furthering sanctification. So I prayed for help, because I needed to let all of it go and move on, rather than fume and hunt down the makers of Word, OneDrive, and while we’re at it, Microsoft.

So I felt better, and turned the laptop back on. I opened up the file for “Failure to Engage,” resigning myself to the loss of those last several pages. I started to save it to Google Drive, not feeling particularly favorably inclined toward OneDrive anymore, and… discovered that three hours before, “Failure to Engage” saved to Google Drive. By itself. Or, without my help, anyway. The entire file, riddle and all, was there!

Things like that don’t just happen. Of course files that no longer exist don’t overwrite files that do, either. I felt like there was a supernatural battle going on there. This book is different, and I feel very led in the writing of it. So really, why wouldn’t there be?

The screen did not miraculously recover, but, after replacing it, I was so thankful it didn’t! And that it broke, because the new screen is so much clearer and evenly, and consistently, lit. Both screens are supposed to be identical, but are they ever not. And not just because the one is broken. So that all worked out for the best.

Then Monday… I went to fill a new cartridge for my tubeless insulin pump, and… I did not have enough insulin to do so. Not because I’m so distracted that I don’t pay attention and waited too long to order a refill, but because my endocrinologist can’t get a prescription right to save her life (more like mine), and it doesn’t matter how many times I’ve called in the last several months (while waiting for my new-patient appointment with her replacement), she didn’t prescribe the right amount, or the type that insurance covers, and in spite of being as conservative as possible, that bottle was a day short. The insulin reserves I had when I moved here, were all used up. I had five units left in the pod (tubeless insulin pump) and it was ready to expire anyway, and needed 80 to fill a new one, and I did not have 80 units! I won’t take the time to go into how hard we tried to get the pharmacy to fill that prescription, but were told that it was absolutely impossible. To stress how insanely difficult that situation was, we weren’t trying to go from Walgreens to CVS after hours, that would be unintelligent, we were trying to go through an all-night location of the same chain the original prescription was originally filled at. But no. It didn’t matter it was the same chain, with access to that prescription, it did not matter that it was life and death. I could only fill it at that one location. It isn’t like insulin is a controlled substance, for pity’s sake! But there was no pity. The pharmacy’s only suggestion was to go to an ER. Try and get a prescription there. And… hope they get to me before my time is up, and I’m in ketoacidosis, which is HORRIBLE, if you’ve never experienced it, and deadly as well.

Getting the prescription filled wasn’t possible. Getting a new prescription called in wasn’t possible (I can not wait for my appointment with my new doctor next month, let me tell you). Filling a pod with less than 80 units wasn’t possible. Going three hours without insulin before becoming dangerously ill wasn’t possible. Surviving the night without insulin wasn’t possible. Emptying the dumpster and searching for old pods, in an effort to utilize any leftover insulin they might contain, did not result in the 80 units necessary for a pod to function.

So I was praying, the Israelite’s shoes and clothing didn’t wear out those forty years they wandered in the wilderness, and Jesus turned a few loaves and fishes into enough to feed thousands, and I really needed help, and needed that insulin to last.

The pod did not last. But, the few units of insulin I had were enough for my old, nine year old traditional insulin pump to function (with miraculous intervention, make no mistake), and I made it the thirteen hours it took until the pharmacy at which I was “allowed” to have my prescription filled, opened.

Glad doesn’t express how I felt about that. I was glad too, that I stayed calm for the most part, and trusted that somehow it would all work out in the end (and not result in my end). I would never test God and intentionally run out of insulin, drink cherry laurel water, or jump off a building just to see if He’d intervene. But this wasn’t the result of my failure, nor could I help myself (other than take my chances at the ER). I couldn’t help myself, and I was rescued. The pump functioned in spite of how little insulin there was, and it lasted as long as it needed to. And if you aren’t in extremely close acquaintance with someone who is on a pump, you can’t know what a miracle that is.

So. That was my week!

But wait, I knew there was something else. I don’t read reviews, because I want to look to God for affirmation and inspiration. I want to be open to guidance by the Holy Spirit as I write, particularly the book I’m writing right now. That’s been one of my prayers, that God would give me affirmation, and have I ever been blessed as a result! I’ve had so many people reach out this week and tell me how they’ve enjoyed my books. One email this morning in particular, from a very sweet lady, made my day. God spoke through her, and it was awesome.

Happy reading!