I Believe in Miracles.

I was never a religious person.  Religious in the sense that I believed you had to go to a building every week and pray with other people.  I thought this was okay, because I believed.

When my brother was murdered, it never occurred to me to be angry with God. To this day, I wonder why it never occurred to me.  It did occur to me that I needed help.  I was so heart broken.  I prayed and I wrote a lot.

Wonderful things began to happen in my life.  I have been overwhelmingly, blessed with grandchildren.  I met, fell in love and married my best friend and soul mate after years of waiting.

I began to follow my dream of becoming an author.

Right before my book’s pre-release, I received the devastating news that my father had stage 3 lung cancer.  I selfishly thought, damn, every time I have good news something bad always happens.  I selfishly thought I never quite achieved the relationship with my Dad that I had always longed for.  Now it would never happen.  There would not be enough time.  He was going to die.

He decided to go with radiation therapy, to gain more time. They would do radiation on the larger lesions and follow-up with chemo.  With me in Philadelphia and my parents in Florida, it was tough to be anything more than moral support over the phone.

I decided to plan a visit in-between radiation and chemo. Dad did well with the radiation until the last few treatments.  His insides were burned and he was struggling to breathe, let alone talk or eat.  He was so sick his doctors decided he would never survive chemo.  He would most likely end up on a ventilator.

Hospice was called and this was the end.  Dad was scheduled for a pet scan to determine how much time he had left on this earth. Take a moment and think about that.  What does it feel like to receive a death sentence?  What goes through your mind? My poor bonus mother what must she be feeling. All of those years she begged and pleaded with him to quit smoking.  He finally did quit, many years ago, so how was this all fair? What must it feel like to go to bed at night and wonder…is this the night the Lord will take me?  Will this be the night I am awakened because I can no longer breathe on my own?  Will I suffocate?  Will I suffer?

Dad went for his pet scan and we waited and waited for the results.  I was making plans to visit once a month…until…

I prayed.  I shouted for the cancer to be gone.  I prayed that my father would be peacefully carried away in Jesus’ arms.  I prayed for strength for myself and my mother.  I prayed for the right words of comfort and love to say to my father.

I had one of those big, burning lumps in my throat.  I imagined hearing 3 months.  That would be the worst.  I hoped and prayed for at least a year.  I was so angry with myself for all the things I never did, or said.  How ingenuous it seemed to say and do them all now.  I dialed the phone.  I stood up and sat down.  I paced into the kitchen and back into the living room.

My mother answered the phone and said, “There is no cancer.” Just like that.  I asked how that was possible and she told me the doctor said, “It is either an actual real life miracle, or I have really good aim with radiation.”  That was that the cancer was gone.  Could it come back? Absolutely it can come back.  I am not going to think about that.  I am going to think about visiting with my father next week and spending some quality time with him and making plans to spend more quality time with him.

I have witnessed several miracles in my life.  It seems the more I believe the more I receive.  It also seems that I have found a wealth of comfort and support in that building I now choose to visit once a week.

How about you, have you witnessed any miracles?

I wish each and everyone of you a blessed, healthy and prosperous New Year!


P.S.  Please check the schedule up there in the folder to see if I will be visiting anywhere near you.  I would love to meet you!


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