God isn't very subtle sometimes

This little story starts a week ago. On the morning of the 8th, there was some shoveling to do for money, so I was up at 3, and shoveling from 4 to 9 in the morning. When I got back to my apartment, I tried to read. I say "tried" because the shivering was so bad I'd have to stop at least once a minute and force myself to be still. After reading the 10-page chapter--which took over half an hour--I hopped in the shower and tried to warm myself up. My hands were a bright reddish-pink color--about the color of the wrapper on cherry-flavored Pez. From a little searching, I figure that I had a mild case of hypothermia. I told one of my friends, and he said he'd take me to Goodwill to look for better winter gear--since mine is more fitting for early-to-mid fall or mid-to-late spring, because I've lost weight.

Tuesday rolled around, and my friend came and picked me up. While we were having dinner before going to Goodwill, the subject came up that I don't feel comfortable taking something I didn't earn--which makes the whole Christian philosophy difficult. It goes against how I was raised. We didn't find any gloves, or boots that would fit me--the rest of my winter stuff is okay--so he just gave me a pair of gloves that he had bought a couple days before and decided to keep using his old pair. He also said that he might be able to get a pair of boots in my size from one of his co-workers.

After that, I went to connection group, where we were talking about what we had done over break. One guy brought up that he was taking Perspectives starting on Sunday, and another guy asked who else in the group was taking it. One of the leaders asked if I was, and I responded with something like "that would require a monetary investment." He said I had been earning money by shoveling, and I thought, "Yeah, but there's rent and electricity and food to pay for first." I'm not really sure how it happened after that--it's a bit of a blur--but my connection group volunteered to pay so that I could take Perspectives.

The next day, my friend texted me saying that he had the boots for me.

Thursday, I got a call from my dad, letting me know that his side of the family would be getting together for "Christmas" on the 24th--of January. He also asked if I would be willing to take his car if he got a new one--providing that I got my license, of course. My friend dropped off the boots an hour or two later. I have to say, I think I'm starting to get comfortable with the idea of getting things I didn't earn.

On a completely unrelated note, am I the only one whose brain was frantically trying to come up with ways to save the bunnies while Mark was talking at Salt last night--or that went to bed and woke up still trying to think of ways to save them (which is probably why I had a dream where a bunny was chasing a bull--don't ask, I don't remember much more of it than that)? If I am, oh well, it's not like I haven't been weird before. If not, here's a couple concepts that might have saved them--and that might save any bunnies that are unfortunate enough to find themselves in the same situation. The first is based on bat removal. If bats get into your home, the pest removers put up a screen that is shaped in such a way that bats can get out, but not in. This would of course have to be modified, since bats are usually coming out in a horizontal or even downward direction, and the bunny needs to be going up--not to mention that bunnies are generally bigger than bats. The other idea is a one-way pet door. That would have to be set up with a spring instead of just using its weight to close it, because the bunny might push it past the vertical, but the spring would have to be weak enough for the bunny to overcome while it is going up. These are just concepts, and it's likely that in trying these, you would find complications, but it's something to try. I'm sorry that I didn't offer these in time to save the bunnies in question, but I didn't know about them until too late.