One miracle at a time

This is one of my all-time favorite pictures.  It says so much more than is visible.  So much.

It's from July 1993, in the Redwoods of northern California.  It was very, very quiet.  Want to know what I see?

I see Jim and Son #1, holding tightly on to his daddy's hand.  I see God -- He's so huge in this picture.  I see Jim, awed by God and His presence and His miracles.  I see Son #1, also awed by God's creation, but also awed by his daddy.  And I see the love that can't be contained within the frame of a picture.  I see Jim's love for God and his son.  I see Son #1's love for his father.  I see my love for each of them as I stopped and watched them and knew I needed a visual memory of this day.

OK, I need to take a breather and get a Kleenex.  Haven't cried in about 4 or 5 days.  I'm feeling a little (a lot) vaklemped (not sure how that SNL word is spelled).

Alright --- it's 5 minutes later.  My nose is red and my eyes are swollen --- not a pretty picture so stop trying to see it!

I have had a pretty good week.  There - I did it.  I used the word "good".  That is also a miracle.  And, other than the dizziness and hearing problems, I have felt good.  Well, other than the fact that I did something to my shoulder on Monday, while playing tennis, and it's really bothering me.  But since I don't listen to my body I just put it in the back of my mind and forge ahead.  Getting old stinks (I would say "sucks" but I'm trying to clean up my act).

But emotionally, I have felt good.  Another miracle.  

I know that I am not "all better now".  I know that there will be times when I'm slammed in the gut and heart again (like this morning) but the times in between those times are getting longer.  I may not be "all better" but I am better.

I found this song today by Steven Curtis Chapman -- I think it's called Miracle of the Moments:

     

      It’s time for letting go 
     All of our if only’s 
     ‘Cause we don’t have a time machine 
     And even if we did 
     Would we really want to use it? 
     Would we really want to go change everything? 
     ‘Cause we are who and where and what we are for now 
     And this is the only moment we can do anything about 

   Chorus: 
     So breathe it in and breathe it out 
     Listen to your heartbeat 
     There’s a wonder in the here and now 
     It’s right there in front of you 
     And I don’t want you to miss 
     The miracle of the moment 

     There’s only one who knows 
     What’s really out there waiting 
     In all the moments yet to be 
     And all we need to know 
     Is He’s out there waiting 
     To Him the future’s history 
     And He has given us a treasure called right now 
     And this is the only moment we can do anything about 
     And if it brings you tears 

     Then taste them as they fall 
     And let them soften your heart 
     And if it brings you laughter 
     Then throw your head back 
     And let it go, let it go 
     You gotta let it go 
     Listen to your heartbeat 

 I think I'd definitely use a time machine if I could, though --- not there yet.  But I like the song anyway.  I like to know that the tears soften my heart -- although, between you and me, my heart has got to look like a lump of soaking wet mush now.  I don't think it resembles a heart at all anymore.

I also like the idea of throwing my head back and laughing.  I have done that -- another miracle.

For those who've asked --- I never thought God deserted me totally.  I've been sad, angry, empty, lonely, depressed, almost suicidal, angry some more, sad a whole lot, clueless, in massive pain, breathless, stunned, scared, anxious, bitter, sorrowful, in shock, vulnerable, abandoned, numb, stricken (that's a great descriptive word), paralyzed, alienated, beaten down, broken, miserable,

furious, hopeless, full of despair, isolated and angry -- wait, I think I already used that one (twice!).

I have definitely felt that He's turned His back on me --- several times.  And it has "seemed" to me that He "left the building" on many, many, many days.  But I know that He didn't.  I know that He's always there -- even if I haven't felt him.  Those are some of the times I've been angry.  And when He has allowed "stuff" (wanted to say "crap" or even something worse (!) but again, trying to clean it up) to happen to me and to my family over and over and over again I have been angry and wondered what the hell (sorry, "heck") He's thinking.  

I still don't know what the hell -dang!- heck, He's thinking and I doubt that I ever will.  And I'm getting better at accepting that.

But He has been in my life since I was about 8 years old.  I've always known He's there and always known that He alone will ALWAYS be with me.  He's been a constant presence.  I cannot imagine how different my life would have been without Him.  It's impossible to imagine -- as impossible as imagining what it would be like to not have had Jim, or our children.  Impossible.

Yes, He has allowed something horrific to happen to me, but He has also blessed me infinitely.

And He continues to bless me.

One good day at a time.

One miracle at a time.