As I struggled to remain on my feet, I grabbed for the curtain of the temporary triage station, grasping for something solid to keep me upright. Nurses grabbed my arms and quickly plopped me into a wheelchair. I then realized I was much sicker than I thought as the six-day 103.8 temperature ravaged my strength.

After a gentle ride across the street to the emergency room, the medical team started an IV, then blood work and a CT scan. I sent a quick text to my Bible study leader Pam, asking for prayers. As the diagnosis came, Covid pneumonia, I did my best to jot notes into my phone as doctors detailed the protocol, talking to me as if I was actually coherent. Remdesivir came up. It pricked my mind. I think that’s a no, but I couldn’t remember. Moments later, without prompting, Pam texted me and confirmed. “Don’t take Remdesivir.” When the next attendee came into the room, I asked her to take it off my list of medications.

Hours of waiting finally netted a hospital room. The next forty-eight hours were a blur of sleep and an occasional stagger to the bathroom, clutching walls to avoid falling. I knew I had no choice but to advocate for myself. No one else could be there to help. I also needed to advocate for Ron, who had a fever as well. When I asked questions about my care, it was for him too. His illness had started about a week after mine and I couldn’t let him get this sick. I needed to get out of here so I could get eyes on him.

After two nights in the hospital, I demanded to be released. With the necessary medications, I would recover better at home. At five pm, I walked out the hospital door with a temporary oxygen tank. Josh met me at the door and drove me home. When I saw Ron, I broke into sobs. He was so sick. I needed to be here. Just like every other crisis in life, we needed each other.

Oxygen was brought to our home for my ongoing care. The technician gave instructions from the door since we were quarantined, but I didn’t need them. This was all too familiar since I helped my mom with her oxygen needs during her final weeks, less than two years ago.

Settling into my recliner, the swishing sounds of the oxygen concentrator swept me back into the past, refreshing the grief of Mom’s passing. At that moment, can I admit? I just wanted my mommy. I needed her embrace, her reminder that everything was going to be okay.

In the days of recovery that followed, my emotions were wild. One moment I felt white hot mad, thinking of all who suffered from Covid. The next minute, I was overcome with tears of gratitude for all the blessings from God; my friends who were praying, Ron, who recovered quickly due to monoclonal antibodies, and our children, who were attentive to our needs. Grief mixed in it all as the swish, swish of the oxygen condenser continued.

I was so tired, but weren’t we all? After a year of Covid, we were tired of watching evil sweep across our beautiful country. Tired of the Covid panic and the suffering from misinformation and fear mongering, of being told what we could do, what rights we had, and who we could be with. We all just wanted to hug our neighbors and not be judged for our own personal choices. Why did we even have to discuss them? What made others think they had a right to judge? Just stay in your own lane!

There it was again, hostile anger. Plain ole’ mad and it wasn’t going to help me get better. So, I did what I always should do. I turned to God and prayed. I surrendered once again to His will and purpose. I begged him to give me His full heart of compassion and to help me be the person He intended me to be. I needed His strength to continue the battle, especially the one raging in my mind.

Then He reminded me. “My daughter, my precious daughter. I win. I always win. I have overcome the world. I know everything you are struggling with and guess what? I am bigger. All these battles belong to me and I win.” It felt like receiving a much-needed embrace from my mama in heaven.

So, my sweet friends, I want to encourage and remind you. No matter how tired you are, or the fight you’re facing, as long as you keep your eyes on Christ and commit yourself to His calling and purpose, everything is going to be okay, because HE ALWAYS WINS.

John 16:33 “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (NIV).