An Unexpected Journey

One year and one day ago I sat in darkness.  A profoundly deep, heavy darkness.  But at 12:45 on February 22nd of 2011, a sharp little cry pierced the darkness like an arrow of light.  One minute later a second arrow blazed just behind as "Baby B" entered this world.  After months of bed-rest and five weeks in the hospital, my miracles arrived!  Four weeks early but so perfect they seemed right on time. Survivors.  Not only did they survive the normal dangers of a multiple pregnancy, but they survived the accident.  And the months of mommy's wailing and post traumatic stress disorder.  And the empty house... except for the belly that was so full. I started journals for my girls when they were 3 months old just like I did for Makiah.  I am so glad now to have those treasured memories recorded!  Last May I wrote to them, "We lost your big sister, Makiah, in a car accident when Mommy was pregnant with you.  I thought I would never ...

Worship chords swirl about.  Heart eyes turn to Him.  Not too often have I felt this lately.  I grab my pen as impressions grab me. this is war a spiritual war sense of the battle  determination not to lose any of my family Makiah cheering us on Makiah dancing for Jesus sense of connectedness with her and eternity His plan is all glorious to reunite us forever families are meant to be together this separation is temporary  we will be together forever sense of this breaking my thorn in the flesh my weakness that won't go away  the thing that keeps me dependent and desperate the thing He can show himself strong in my weakness my loss

Miracles.  Sometimes they surprise us all at once in a supernatural sort of way.  Other times they start like a tiny drip, drip, dripping until the bucket fills and overflows and a miracle is born.  Makiah’s gift began with the clinking of little pennies in her piggy bank.  Then with tiny footsteps as tiny fingers brought it to her preschool class offering at church.  A little heart had purposed to give it all away… to send it to the boys and girls that had no clean water.  That’s what she told her mama that day.  A short two weeks before she was taken away.  Her last gift. So tiny it would seem.  Those first few drops in the bucket.  But then other hearts began to shift and sway.  Soon the dripping turns to flowing.  Water flowing.  Life flowing.  Pennies in the hand  become water on the fingers and past the lips of grateful ones.  Two more wells are completed for the thirsty ones.    ...