Miracles still happen. I
know this.
Prayers are answered.
I know this too.
Today, I was shown, once again, that it's true.
I haven't shared much about this, but for the past year, my younger brother Brad has been battling a very aggressive cancer. He has undergone 3 surgeries, 2 rounds of chemo, 1 of radiation. He has lost muscle tissue, arteries, veins, and I think even nerves in both sides of his neck. He has been through hell, and this cancer kept seem to show back up. Truthfully? I have had to put up a wall in a sense. I couldn't think too deeply about this, because every time I did, my stomach knotted up. This is my "little" brother. This
can't happen to him.
And so I prayed.
We prayed. We fasted. We hoped. Today, for the first time in a long time, the news was good. Hope grows. He isn't through this yet. There is another round of chemo. A life-long effort to keep cancer in remission. But there is hope. The news was good. Oh how we have prayed for this.
How I have prayed for this. And so, today. This was my first miracle.
My second came only a few minutes later. You see, my Lynnaea has two little stuffed doggies she likes to sleep with. Every night, she remembers them at bed-time. And usually they are nearby, because she usually carries them around from room to room. But tonight was different. We'd all searched in all the "known" places. Under the beds. In her closet. In mommy and daddy's bed. In the playroom, in the cupboards. Even in the recycle bin (Corbin likes to put things in there). We were at a loss, and Daddy had already told her she might just have to sleep without them tonight. Oh how she cried at the prospect.
No, I don't necessarily relish her being so attached to the dogs that she melts down at the thought of not sleeping with them. But to hear her cry like that... It hurt my mother heart. And so I kept looking. Utility room, back in the playroom. Behind the couch, under it. Behind the couch cushions.... Into the play room again. And then we went back into the kids' room and I searched the closet again. I stopped. I looked at her and said, "Lynnaea, come here a minute." She did. I said, "There is Someone who knows where your doggies are. And He loves you very much. He will help us, if we ask. That person is Heavenly Father. Let's say a prayer and ask for His help to find your doggies." She immediately sat on my lap and I said a prayer. I told Heavenly Father that I know He loves Lynnaea, and I know He knows how important these doggies are to her. I told him I knew he knew where those dogs were, and asked if He could please help us find them before Lynnaea had to go to bed. After our prayer, we looked some more. I did know He would help us. I just didn't know where else those dogs could be. I went into the kitchen and looked in the oven (Corbin again...). And then I remembered. I remembered the little roller backpack she sometimes stuffs things into. I remembered it had been in the living room earlier and I'd thrown it into the play room. I remembered that, as I was throwing it into the play room, I wondered if there was stuff inside it. I marveled that I hadn't noticed the bag in the play room the two times I'd been in there already. But when I went in again, this time specifically looking for it as I called Lynnaea to the play room, I saw it lying there. I told Lynnaea I knew where her doggies were, and I pointed to the backpack thing. She smiled and zipped it open. Her face was joyful as she pulled her doggies out. I asked her if she knew what we needed to do at that moment. She said we needed to thank Heavenly Father.
She was right. And so we did.
Now, it may seem coincidence. It may seem ridiculous to believe the Lord would care anything about two stuffed dogs. But I know He does. Because they matter to Lynnaea. And
she matters to Him. This was my second miracle today.
How grateful I am for His love for my precious girl. For
His precious girl. How grateful I am to be reminded of His love and awareness of me.
I leave you with
this talk, because it's one of the best I've ever heard and read.
And I leave you with this little cutie and her paper cut-out of herself (for school).
