Day 148: Cards

Happy Friday and Day 148 of Another 100 Days of Hannah …and Counting, y’all!
 
Update first: No, I did not end up going in to work yesterday.  After I finished blogging, I went over to my parents house, where they could barely hear/understand what I was staying with only a few, unmasked feet between us.  Since it was then obvious that my patients would not be able to understand me, I texted my company, asking them to reach out to the facility to try to find an aid to help with communication for the day.
 
Two hours later, the response came back – no one’s available.  As my vocal quality had still not improved, we decided to call it then.  Considering I never found my voice all day, that was probably a wise decision.
 
Thus far this morning, she has still not returned, but, it’s still early, I’ll give her time.
 
More than anything at this point, I’m really really glad that I’m not scheduled to be playing or singing for a wedding this weekend.  For some reason, I don’t think anyone would have appreciated my currently squeaky state.
 
From there though, the last couple of days have definitely reminded me just how powerless I am in the grand scheme of things.
 
  • No matter how much water and tea I drink, nothing has had any affect on fixing my voice.
  • Despite doing PT (which, btw, I still completely support) and mild strength training, my joints still do what they want when they want.
  • Even when I eat the best diet I know, I don’t have complete control over my nausea or brain fog.
  • Regardless of how much gatorade I drink, some days, I still feel like passing out.
 
And, like it or not, this powerlessness isn’t limited to health.
 
I had no choice over the day or the time that I was born.
I did not choose my family or place of birth.
I had no say in the genetics that determine my height, my bone structure, my skin color.
I was born with natural predispositions and talents, that yes, I may have worked to improve, but I did not create these talents in myself.
I could keep going, but you get the point.
Admittedly, realizing the extent of my lack of control in life can definitely be terrifying, but it is also humbling.  After all, where is pride in the face of such a myriad of happenstance?
 
Life, it would seem, is much like a game of cards. Skill and strategy have their place, but at the end of the day, we are all left to simply play the hand we are dealt.  Harsh though it may be, the outcome of the game does not always mirror the ability of the player – good players with poor hands may still succumb to poor players with good hands. It’s all in the luck of the draw.
Yet, despite all that depends on the roll of a dice, the choice is still ours:  how will we play these unfairly rationed cards? What will our lives reflect when the final card falls?  Will we take the glory for a victory, not our own?  Or will we magnify the one who calls us each His own?
Catch y’all tomorrow,
Hannah

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