A God of Miracles

 

When consciousness hit me this morning, I wanted to stay in bed. All day if I could.

I am not one to openly tell my trials and troubles to the world, but I believe personal details are not entirely necessary when we choose to share a significant growth experience. As stated initially, when I awoke this morning, the last thing I wanted to do was face the day.

I am aware that feelings of reluctance, unhappiness, despair, and so forth are not unique to me—every human being comes face to face with the draining effects of discouragement, fear, uncertainty, pain, depression… need I go on? Life hands us big and small problems on a continual basis. We all face trials, hardships, disappointments—these are roadblocks common in life. Some trials are grievous to bear. The rest are hard in other ways. Any of them can make us want to stay in bed all day.

This morning, staring at the ceiling while feeling defeated by a handful of trials that amounted to my present roadblocks, I spoke to God in prayer. For a few quiet minutes, I shared my feelings with Him. During that prayer, I made the half-sarcastic comment that if this one particular, small, unlikely thing happened, I would put both feet on the floor and face the day gladly. Not that I honestly planned to remain in bed; I usually manage to slip over the mattress’ edge and move forward from there. And no, I did not expect to get what I wanted simply because I asked. As I said, my request was for something unlikely, even next to impossible. I was not anticipating a miracle. I just wanted one—a small, personal blessing to cheer me up.

Now here is the crazy, beautiful part: Only a few minutes after mumbling “Amen” at the end of my prayer, that one, particular, small, unlikely thing did happen! As near impossible as I thought it to be, it actually happened! So yes, I got my sorry self out of bed. And yes, I thanked God for the tender mercy that buoyed me up enough to face a hard day.

If you are struggling with personal roadblocks, I recommend praying about it. God really is a god of miracles. He has solutions we never dream of. Often, you will not get an immediate response to prayer. It has taken a good amount of time for me to receive answers to my own. But my experience has been that they do come, eventually. Every now and then they are instant and miraculous. Those I refer to as tender mercies.

—Richelle E. Goodrich, Hope Evermore  copyright 2023

A Little Comfort

    Losing a loved one is painful. I am certain that those who have experienced this kind of loss feel a pang in their hearts at the mere mention of it. Grief—that aching bruise—never heals. It may improve over time, or perhaps, one just grows numb to it. 

     I recently said goodbye to my father.

     Dad was 81 years old. He died while in the hospital. There were numerous contributing factors, but Covid was the culprit that first got him admitted to a room on the top floor of med-surg. He remained a bedridden patient for two-and-a-half months after his recovery from Covid, mainly due to diminished strength and the need for antibiotics to fight an internal infection. Diabetes and dementia complicated his health issues. 

     We were lucky to celebrate Dad's 81st birthday with him in the hospital, blessed that day to find him in good spirits and mentally aware. We brought him his favorite carrot cake, read messages from his birthday cards, and presented him with a music box that played his favorite classic country songs. The opportunity to see him celebrate this birthday was a gift to us. Dad passed away in his sleep two weeks later.

     I know that even in heartbreaking situations there are blessings to be recognized and appreciated. One of my dearest blessings is my husband—a kind, compassionate, and gentle man who concerns himself with my feelings. He did not disappoint on the day my mom phoned to deliver the news that Dad had passed through the veil into Heaven. 

     We were away from home when the call came. Shortly afterwards, we found ourselves inside a large Buc-ee's gas station. There were snacks, drinks, sandwiches, souvenirs, clothing, and a variety of other items to purchase inside. While I was looking for something to drink, my sweet husband wandered off and then returned with a small, stuffed teddy bear in his arms. It was called a Gifting Bear, and it had one ear sewn from a different material than the rest of its furry body. This corduroy ear was unique for a reason specified in the instructions that came with the bear. 

"Whenever you need a little comfort, a little safe, a little brave, just whisper in my ear and hold me tight. I'll be here for you."

     

     A week plus has passed since my dad's funeral. It was such a turbulent day, I found it impossible to grieve. Following the funeral, days were spent accepting visitors, seeing family off to the airport, filling out necessary paperwork, getting finances in order, etc. It was not until my recent return home that I found a few quiet hours alone and sat down to fully comprehend the realness of my dad's passing.

     That soft, furry teddy bear was in the room with me and had already become a symbol of my dad. So, I took it in my arms and spoke into its little corduroy ear, and with tears, I whispered everything I wanted to say to my father. I felt the shawl of grief that had been denied me at the funeral, but I also felt the most tender reassurance that my words were heard and appreciated. 

     Someday, I too will pass through the veil and step into Heaven to be reunited with my dad again, along with other loving family members who preceded me in death. Until then, my little Gifting Bear sits on my writing desk and allows me to whisper to him whenever I need comfort or safe or brave. That is exactly what my dad used to give me on bad days. I miss him.

I am Grateful

     Here I am, sitting with my feet up, slippers on, relishing one of the few quiet Thanksgiving days I have had in life. I find myself feeling grateful for a low-key, peaceful holiday. Not that I don't appreciate time with my family and friends, for I love them dearly, but it feels like ages since I have been able to put on the brakes and "chill" as my boys would say. In the warmth and comfort of my house, I am grateful to hear the soft hum of a refrigerator underlining the quiet. A quiet that will not last for long.

     It is good to count blessings on Thanksgiving. It is a healthy habit to count blessings every day of the year, and so I would like to share a few things I am most grateful for.
First would be the blessing of prayer and the opportunity it affords me to speak to my Heavenly Father at any time and in any circumstance. I cannot imagine wading through life's trials without leaning on Him.

     Next, I am grateful to have experienced the immense joy of motherhood. I have never felt love as powerful and consuming as that of a mother's love for her children. I am happy to have been blessed to give birth to my beautiful angels, a joy I would not trade for anything.

     I am immensely grateful for family, for this divinely instituted unit of humans bound by blood and/or vows to support and love and uphold each other. It is insane and yet wondrous how a family unit works; despite squabbles, clashing preferences, and differences of opinion, when the storm clouds roll in, it is family first we turn to and rely on. It is family who loves us regardless and often stands up to bullies in our defense. I am thankful for the Master's glue that binds families forever.

     In this same vein, I must say how grateful I feel toward my husband for his noticeable efforts in being thoughtful, kind, and a helpful presence in our home. I appreciate his efforts, often biting his lip to keep the peace when I have had a bad day. Thank you for that.

     I am grateful for the daydreaming reader who loves to pretend and fantasize about incredible, impossible things. And I am thankful for every stolen moment I can use for scribbling out my poetry and stories. I am grateful to those who purchase my books, whether for their own entertainment or as a gift to others, thus supporting my dreams and allowing me more precious time to write.

     I am grateful for enchanting stories by talented authors. Their tales are my ticket to experience fantastical worlds and incredible lives. The creativity abounding in these tales inevitably enhances my own.

     I am grateful for those who take the time to give a kind word to others. I cherish the thoughtful emails and comments I have received, usually about something I have written that has touched a heart or helped buoy a despondent spirit. I keep these printed, kind remarks in a box to remind me that words are powerful to the soul; what I write makes a difference.

     I am grateful for purpose and goals. For a world of rich diversity. For landscapes as vast and beautiful and contrasting as the people who possess this earth. I am grateful that my list of things to be grateful for is too extensive to write out in one sitting.

     And so I will leave you with these thoughts and a word of advice. Find much to be grateful for in every day. Doing so will not only enrich your life, it will bless those around you in ways you may never know.
From me to you, Happy Thanksgiving.

― Richelle E. Goodrich