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Posts Tagged ‘miracles’

If we were having coffee this morning, we would be in the 13th floor of the hospital in room 30 where I am recovering from surgery.  The great news? 

I have no cancer. They found that the “tumor” was actually a huge gallstone which was hard as  a rock!  The part that was in my liver was an inflammation from the gallbladder situation. So they pulled out the gallbladder and cleaned a lot of abscesses that they found throughout the abdomen. I have 3 incisions. No chemo port because I “ain’t gonna need it!” I will be here for 3 to 5 days. Lots of pain. But I can handle it. 

Thank you all for the support and prayers and for being here with me.  Going to cut this short because I’m writing it on my phone and it’s also time to find my magic button did the pain medication. 

#WeekendCoffeeShare is hosted by Diana at Parttimemonsterblog. Go check it out!  (I can’t seem to link this to the bloghop but ilk see if I can get Diana to link if for me.)

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I’m not a very religious person. I’ve mentioned it before. However, as I get older, I see how faith in a higher power can work wonders. Time and time again I have seen friends and family deal with the death of loved ones in many ways but it is those that have a deep faith in god or in a supreme being, that are able to handle it better; and those with faith believe in medical miracles and in the power of prayer.

I’ve also found myself looking for faith. I know I already have it. But I want more of it. I know that I have to trust that things will be okay in my life. I have to have faith that everything will work out. I know I do. When I had my surgery last April, I didn’t know if I would make it through or what the doctors would find but I had to trust a higher being, a supreme being, that it would be okay and work out for the best.

Some of my older readers might remember a post about something that happened before my surgery. That incident gave me the faith and the trust that all would be okay; that whatever was supposed to happen during that surgery would happen.

I also know that these days, I am more at peace with things. I think that  I am more confident in the future because I have this faith. I wish I had more. I won’t be artificial about it. If I feel it, great. I won’t pretend. I feel it more and more these days. It’s a wonderful feeling…peace.

I wish everyone could feel that. At some point in your life, I hope that you will find the faith that is needed for that inner peace.

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When I was growing up, I was the one who helped my mother do the everyday correspondence, even though I was the fifth of seven kids.  I remember being in second grade and being the one that filled out and addressed the Christmas cards for my mom every year.  I had to print because I didn’t know cursive yet.

One year I was filling out the cards and the card my mom had picked out was a really pretty one.  It had a bright red poinsettia on the front of it and on the inside it had the normal holiday greeting but on the backside of the front picture was a paragraph about the poinsettia being introduced to the United States in 1828 by Joel Roberts Poinsett, the first U.S. Ambassador to Mexico.  It also mentioned a Mexican legend about this flower, which in Mexico is known as la flor de la noche buena, or the Christmas Eve flower.  It didn’t tell the legend, it just mentioned that there was one.

That caught my interest and I started to wonder and ask and read about this beautiful flower.  After several years, I learned the legend.  I’ve shared it with my readers previously but I’d like to share it again.  I’ve put it into my own words.  I’ve changed the name of the little girl to Maria (she is called by different names in different versions of the story).  I just recently learned that December 12 is “the day of the poinsettia” in the United States, which is interesting to me because December 12 is also the day of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the patron saint of Mexico.

The Legend of the Poinsettia

[This is a retelling of the traditional legend of the poinsettia.  I have read many versions and have worded this one in my own words, from a number of variations on the traditional legend.]

In a small village in Mexico, many years ago, lived a family with three children.  The daughter was María and the oldest of the three.  Her two younger brothers were Pablo and José.  Her father worked wherever he could find a job, often traveling to villages far away for a few days of work.  María’s mother was a wonderful weaver.  People from villages nearby brought their weaving to her.  María helped to take care of her little brothers while her mother worked on the weaving.

One day, the priest from the village church came to see María’s mother to ask a favor of her.  Each year the villagers participated in a procession to the church where they re-enacted the birth of the Christ child.  The priest brought the blanket to cover baby Jesus to María’s mother to repair as it was frayed and damaged.  Instead, María’s mother said she would make a new one because the old one was too far gone.  She assured the priest it would be ready in time for the Christmas Eve procession.

The next day, María’s father left to a village to do some work.  He would be back in a week.  His children stood at the entry to their small house, smiling and waving at their father as he left then they went to school, María leading the way as she held on to her brothers’ small hands.  When the three children returned home, their mother was very ill.  María left to call the doctor who was in another village.  When the doctor came, he took care of María’s mother but told María that her mother had to remain in bed until she was well.  It would be some time.  María promised to take care of her mother and make sure she took her medicine.

For the next few days, María took care of her mother and her brothers and tried to finish weaving the blanket her mother had begun to make for the baby Jesus.  It was such an honor to be asked to contribute this small gift to the village’s tradition and to the Christ child.  Her mother had begun to teach her to weave but María couldn’t do it.  Instead, the thread became tangled in the loom and it was no use.  There would be no new blanket for the Christ child that year.  María cried in shame.  Her family would be dishonored and shamed.

When Christmas Eve arrived, María did not want to go to the procession because she was so ashamed of not having been able to make the blanket.  Her little brothers were looking forward to the procession and they pleaded with her to take them.  She finally agreed, thinking that she would hide in the bushes near the church, close enough to watch the procession and close enough to watch her little brothers but far enough to not feel her cheeks burn with shame.  So she took them to the procession and sank back into the bushes, out of sight.

From nowhere came an old beggar woman and asked María why she was hiding.  María told her what had happened.  The woman told her she had to join the others in the procession and participate in the tradition of bringing a gift to the Baby Jesus.  The woman told her it did not matter what she took as a gift to the Christ child.  The only thing that mattered was what was in her heart.  María argued that she could not join the procession with no gift but the woman convinced her that the gift would be joining in the procession and being present.

Not wanting to go into the church empty handed, María looked around her but found only some green leaves growing near the bushes.  She grabbed an arm full of them and joined the procession into the church.  As her turn came to proceed up the aisle to the manger, María walked with the bouquet of green leaves in her arms, tears running down her cheeks because she was so ashamed of having no gift.  As she placed the leaves at the manger as her family’s gift, she closed her eyes in shame.  She heard the collective gasp of everyone in the church and feared that they were laughing at her for bringing weeds to the Baby Jesus.  She opened her eyes and instead of the wild green leaves, she saw the most beautiful red flowers.  As her tears dropped onto the green leaves, each leaf turned a deep red.  They were the most beautiful flowers María had ever seen and they were her miracle gift to the Baby Jesus.

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Christmas is a time of miracles.  I think each year that I have been alive there has been some small miracle at Christmas.  This year my extended family got our Christmas miracle early and I think it is making the season so much more special for us all.  Yes, there are many problems.  Life is not perfect for anyone in my family at the moment but when we stop and think about our little miracle, we can all be thankful that things are not worse…after all, things could have turned out differently and that would have been horrible.

Two Sundays ago, I was settling in for a relaxing evening and bundling up on the couch when I got a text message from one of my sisters asking if I knew if anything had happened at our mom’s house because our uncle had texted her saying our nephew had been hurt seriously.  I had not heard but I called my sister immediately (another sister).  She answered her cell phone and I could tell from the background noise that she was at the hospital and then there was her voice.  I knew my uncle’s text message had been right.

My niece’s five year old boy was at my mother’s house with his dad.  His dad was trying to fix the garage door which was stuck in the open position.  Canaan, the five year old, was supposed to be inside the house when the garage door came crashing down.  Canaan, who is tiny for a five year old, was caught under the door.  His head was smashed and he was unconscious and in shock.  From past experience, my sister knew that an ambulance would not respond to that part of town for at least an hour and they had no time to spare.  They got Canaan in the car and she drove to the hospital where he was seen immediately.  It was determined that he had a badly fractured skull and possibly other injuries which they were not attempting to diagnose until he could be stabilized.  Because the local hospital (in Hemet, California) was not equipped to handle this kind of injury, he was air lifted to the region’s Level One Trauma Center which also specializes in pediatric trauma.  At the time that he was air lifted, he was not responding very well and there was great concern that he might have suffered some degree of brain damage.

In the meantime, two of my sisters and I had posted it on Facebook and asked our friends and family to pray long and hard for our Canaan.  Within minutes we had responses from all over the country where our friends and extended family were all praying for him and he had been placed on prayer circles in several cities.  The amount of love and concern and prayer for him was unbelievable!

Over the next several hours, we all waited for word from the hospital.  Canaan had been air lifted but his parents had to drive an hour to the trauma center so for at least the first hour, we had absolutely no word on his condition.  Then once the family arrived at Loma Linda, there was a lot of waiting while the doctors examined Canaan and did CT Scans and MRIs and other tests.

During these hours, I kept in touch with friends and family on Facebook and through text messages and phone calls.  Again, the amount of support and prayers was mind boggling and comforting at the same time.

Finally, many hours later, the word came that there did not appear to be any brain damage and no significant injuries other than the skull fracture which is near the left ear.  He was in a great deal of pain and heavily sedated through the ordeal.  He spent the next day in ICU and then was moved out of ICU where he stayed for another two days.  Then he was released to home and hospital care for the next three months.  He will not be returning to kindergarten until March.  He cannot run and play outside with is brothers.  He wears a motorcycle helmet at all times to prevent re-injury.  He is antsy.  He wants to go play.

But he is alive!  And he is well!  And he will be back to normal in three months!

Certainly sounds like a miracle to me.  And add in the fact that so many people, friends, family, and strangers, sent out their positive energy, prayers, love, and support to our family and you have a very precious miracle.

A perfect Christmas if you ask me.

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