In the early morning on the following Thursday, I woke up to a text from my grandma Connie announcing that my deathly-ill cousin had been discharged from the hospital. Despite the severity of his illness, his lungs and oxygen stats began a sudden and rapid recovery over Tuesday and Wednesday. Of course, as all miracle stories go, the doctors were stunned by his record recovery time. What should've been a weeks-long stay at the hospital, and many more months in recovery, turned into just six days, and nobody could explain it away. According to the doctors, Remdesivir and oxygen don't just do that to a patient as sick as my cousin was.
Yet, someway, somehow, my cousin was able to walk out of the hospital without assistance six days after his wife found him passed out on the floor at home, severely hypoxic and unable to breathe beyond short, gasping breaths. At the time of writing this bit, we've yet to know the long-term consequences of his illness. He is still a little wheezy, but is able to take care of himself, play with his children, and feed his livestock.
As relieving and baffling as the news of his recovery was, I was still hit by a wave of second-hand survivor's guilt. I couldn't help but think about all of the people like my cousin who, despite being young, fit, and lacking any sort of known pre-existing condition, ended up in the hospital on covid, but unlike my cousin, didn't get to go home. Why did God seemingly heal my cousin, but didn't heal thousands of others just like him?
Honestly, I don't think anyone (including myself) can answer that question. At least, not while we're still living in the flesh. The closest answer I can be sort of comfortable with, is that it just wasn't my cousin's time yet, but everyone who passes away passes on God's terms. If a person dies, it was just their time. I understand that this perspective just raises even more questions, but again, at this point in my life, I'm starting to figure out that maybe just dropping the topic altogether might be the best idea.
While I want to sucker-punch anyone who utters the words, "God works in mysterious ways...", they kind of have a point. That phrase is often used to shutdown things that people deem scary or uncomfortable, which is why I hate it so much. But, there is some truth to it. Indeed, unlike God, we don't know everything. Our human minds are actually extremely feeble and finite, especially when compared to our Creator. What right do we have to criticize God, and nitpick Him for doing things that we wouldn't have done? Perhaps, the Creator of the universe knows a thing or two that we don't; things that we'll find out when He deems us ready.
