Funny things, odds.

Generally speaking, a person is in the
majority.  But
unless we’re talking 100%, someone always has to be in the minority.

So why not
me and my family (a few times running)?
are, for example, that my dad – who has never smoked a cigarette in his life —
would not have Stage 4 lung cancer that metastasizes to his bones.
But he does.
Even more remote are the odds that my parents – who still buy gifts at garage sales out of financial necessity and a lifetime habit of frugality – would finance a cruise
for all 8 of their kids, kids’ spouses and themselves so that we could have one
last, awesome memory together as a family while Dad is still with us.
But they did.
are probably still less (although I haven’t done the research so don’t go
quoting this) that someone walking through a grocery store parking lot would be
hit by an oncoming vehicle (and walk away with relatively few injuries).  
But I was, and I did.
finally, odds are teeny-tiny that the very ship that my parents booked for our family’s
(quite literal) once-in-a-lifetime cruise would catch fire in the Caribbean just 6 days before our cruise — and that our cruise would be cancelled. (I looked it up — there are approximately 297 cruise ships in
operation which embark on dozens, sometimes hundreds, of trips each year.)
But the ship did catch fire.  And our cruise was cancelled.
I know,
Like I
said, someone has to be in the minority. 
I have most definitely experienced a few (okay, several) head-shaking, fist-shaking, “Are-you-freakin’-kidding-me?” moments.

But are the odds really not in our favor?  It might be more a question of semantics, a definition of terms.

True, we don’t
exactly all have our health.  But we have
each other — my dad is still here, and so am I.

We have abiding faith in a loving Heavenly Father — who, along with infinite compassion, certainly
possesses a sense of humor and irony.

We have amazing friends and neighbors.  Truly.

We laugh a good deal more than we cry.

We aren’t currently on the ship eating onion and cucumber
sandwiches and using overflowing toilets (the regrettable fate of the passengers right now, according to news reports).

And in April (my fabulous mom
rallied almost immediately after hearing the news and re-booked our cruise),
the hope is that I won’t be convalescing from the accident anymore.  Which
means that instead of the plus-size floral moo moo I was going to pack (my bruises still being fairly unattractive), I might go out on a limb and pack a swim suit.

There’s always a bright side.

So even when the odds don’t seem to be in our favor, may they always — somehow or another — be in our favor.