Miracles

This is how I visualize it: the angels of the Heavenly Miracle Review Committee are sitting around in a circle of silver-lined clouds, looking through the last month's worth of miracles. The file is thick, so the committee is pleased with the thought that the monthly miracle quota has been met. They are about to sign off with a big gold checkmark when a tiny angel on a corner cloud pipes up: "Wait! I just have this feeling: we need ONE more miracle, just one more. And I know who it needs to go to."

The miracle went to my oldest (and pregnant) sister, who was T-boned by a drunk driver Wednesday night in Spokane. Her car spun in a full circle and flew up over the hood of a nearby vehicle. Four witnesses stopped their cars in a protective road-block, then watched in absolute disbelief as my sister stepped out of her totalled car. The passenger riding with the drunk driver collapsed onto the sidewalk in sobs, and another driver could not stop crying and shaking from what she had just witnessed. When the EMTs saw my sister's car they prepared to extricate a dead person. They couldn't believe she was standing right there in front of them. "People don't just walk away from hits like this," they kept saying. My sister is matter-of-fact about it: "God gave me a miracle. He was true to His promises."

Inspiration

For one of my literacy classes, I'm compiling 25 "multicultural children's literature cards" to be use in my future classroom. One of the books I selected for this project is entitled I Have A Sister, My Sister Is Deaf. I love this book - it's gentle, realistic, and best of all, provides numerous starting points for literacy activities. When I use this book in my classroom I'd like to have my students be "deaf for a day" - or at least 30 minutes - and reflect on the experience of not having one human sense on which to rely. The object is for them to learn how their other senses "fill in the gaps." This morning, I came across a video about a blind photographer. Here again, an example of a person who relies on his other senses to "fill in" for not being able to see. He does "see" images, but through the image of sound. Very cool concept. Check it out: http://vimeo.com/14179548. You may be inspired! 

Cowgirl at Heart

I lean against the sun-warmed fence, watching as Amy shows her horse to an interested couple. She has been trying to sell her horse for months now. No reason save lack of time. I find myself regretting this as I watch Amy. She is obviously happy around her horse. She sits tall in the saddle and moves in rhythm with her horse's stride, speaking a language only they two share. I smell the coppery warmth of Angel's coat, the sweet whiff of her breath. Her eyes are half-closed in the sunshine, but she is paying close attention to the people around her. Suddenly, I sense myself wanting to be close to this horse. I have never thought of myself as a "horse person," but why not? I love horses. I love their strength, their speed, their gentle power. I love how I feel next to a horse, awed and yet protected by a quiet giant. I love how I feel on top of a horse, free and at home in the closeness of a transferred trust. I love the smell of horses, hay, leather, and tack. The smells calm me and make me feel that everything's okay with the world. I love the sound of a horse's tail swishing, its breath whooshing and its long teeth cruching. I love the sight of horses running in the wind. Sometimes I can almost feel myself running with them, tossing my hair and racing the ground just to understand my own restlessness. During some of the worst days of my life, it was horses that helped heal my broken spirit. Trail riding the Grand Tetons was an journey I wanted never to end. I have dreamed of riding a wild horse, bareback and barefoot, full speed across the open country. Some day, even if it's in heaven, I know I will have just such an experience. Until then I am left wondering, am I actually, after all, a cowgirl at heart? 

Breathless Moments

While we were out walking this morning, my younger sister Amy contemplated aloud on this quote: "Life is not measured by the number of breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away." You can't plan those moments. I don't know if you can even purposely put yourself in a situation where such moments are more likely to occur. But you do play a conscious role in that you allow yourself to be open to wonder, to the unforeseen miracles that sneak up on you when you least expect them. Like the golden bloom of a daffodil that has survived late spring frosts. Or the laughter of an infant in her sleep. Or the touch of a friend you have not seen in years. Thank God for those moments that take our breath away. Those are the moments when a fold of heaven crinkles into our life on earth.

Enough

Matthew, one of my five brothers, is studying to be a doctor. He is also a born organizer. This year, he organized a "Wellness Challenge" to promote the health and well-being of family and friends. My sister Amy and I agreed to sign up for the challenge, if for nothing else to support Matthew's efforts. Every week we attempt to complete a list of activities designed to improve our mental and physical health.

This is Week 10 of the 10-week challenge, and I am assessing my results. Not such a pretty picture. Did I renew my gym membership? No. Did I register for and complete an "Athletic Event"? No. Did I make significant gains in lowering my cholestorol levels, losing weight, and eating a diet of nonprocessed foods? Um, no. In fact, I'm the heaviest I've ever been in my life! So what's going on? Well, evidently I'm a "holder" of all the stress which has underlined our lives the past few months. The conflict between my parents, the upheaval of my family, the uncertain paths of my younger siblings, the adjustment into parenting my youngest sister... has all settled in my stomach. Add to that trying to perform well academically in my six college classes and four teacher Praxis tests - let's just say it hasn't been an easy semester. I haven't been able to devote myself as I had hoped to the Wellness Challenge, and subsequently have not arrived at the results I expected of myself. I always want success, but herein lies a lesson of accepting what is enough.

So what is enough? For now, it is awareness. Awareness of how I spend my days, as recorded in my Fitness Log in the form of meals eaten, exercise undertaken, activities enjoyed, and hours slept. Awareness of how I am fueling my body, mind, and heart. Awareness of how I can improve upon that baseline. So I didn't reach the results for which I'd hoped. But I did gain more awareness, knowledge which will at some future point be tangibly applied to my life. And that, for now, is enough.

May Day

Happy May, world! I stepped outside this morning into sunshine. And breathed it in with gratitude. Sunshine helps me breathe. I don't know why, but I forget to breathe. Seriously. I'll be going through my day or be in the middle of a physical activity, and realize I have forgotten to breathe. Maybe I need one of those blonde-joke heasets which repeats, "Breathe in, breathe out." Or maybe I just need sunshine. The warmth of golden rays reaches my heart, releases everything held inside, and pushes air through my lungs. I haven't read it, but I know of a book entitled "Breathing Lessons." Perhaps I ought to write an autobiography entitled "Learning to Breathe."

Osama bin Laden was killed by U.S. soldiers today. The news is all over the television. I am listening in a kind of half-there state, looking at the celebrating crowds at Capitol Hill and Ground Zero with mixed feelings. One thing I love about America is its resilient spirit, the collective force of millions which believe we have freedoms to believe in and fight for. September 2001 tore at our spirits as it challenged our freedoms. Of  course we want to celebrate the death of a man who symbolized  the antithesis to our American spirit. I get that. There's a bittersweet kind of justice that comes with the end of a terrorist. But at the same time, I can't join in the celebration of a life no longer. So many individuals, around the world, have sacrificed their lives for the cause of their country. My prayers go out to our men and women who continue to fight for what America believes, long past the end of one man in history.