Joyless or Joyful

A few weeks ago, I was driving home late at night—hot, tired, and just trying to make it home in one piece. Window down, road empty, can barely see because I’m blind as a bat without my glasses (ironic, I know).

Something hit my car door and dropped into the floorboard.

I ignored it.

Mistake.

Next thing I know, something with WINGS is in my hair. In my face. Flapping like it pays rent there. I’m swinging, driving, praying, and trying not to meet Jesus all at the same time.

Y’all…

It was a BAT.

A WHOLE. LIVE. BAT.
In my car.
With me.

I fought for my life, pulled into a parking lot, and somehow scooped it out like I was handling mail instead of airborne trauma.

And because life said, “you ain’t done yet,” I ended up in the ER getting rabies shots that felt like they were injecting Karo syrup straight into my soul.

Not one shot. Not two.

A whole SERIES.

If that wasn’t enough, this isn’t even my first wildlife encounter.

I once had TWO BIRDS flying around my car on the interstate like they were late for work. Turns out they had been living in some ferns I threw in the back.

Because apparently… I run a mobile wildlife sanctuary.

And then there are the moments that aren’t funny.

Like the day I merged onto the interstate and saw a vehicle coming straight at me in my lane. I swerved. They hit the car behind me. That driver didn’t make it.

That one stayed with me.

Because that could’ve been me.

And that’s when it hits…

Some people call it luck.

I don’t.

I call it grace.

Through bats, birds, chaos, and things I’ll never understand—I know one thing for sure:

God has had His hand on me every single time.

And I’ll never take that for granted.