Miracles in My Life
You asked about my miracles. Most of mine are come in everyday occurances: the kids get up in a good mood, nobody got sick, all homework got done. And then there are the ones that really get your attention.
A miracle is usually something that is way out of the ordinary, that should not really happen. Something supernatural. There is one that comes to my mind each and every time.
This one doesn't involve the parting of any bodies of water. It doesn't involve turning stone into bread. It doesn't involve unending oil in my jars. It involves everything in the right place at the right time that never should have been.
It was 1988 and I was a senior in college (yes, I just told my age). It was Presidential election day. I was not old enough to vote, but my mother was going to pick me up from school and take me with her so that I could learn how the next time when I could. My father was away on business like he was every week: he left on Monday and came back on Friday. Everything seemed to be normal.
But things were not going the way they were supposed to. The first thing happened on Monday. My father's work would give him several locations that he would have to visit and audit over the next month or so. He would pull out his map and sensibly work out his logistics. He was supposed to be in a town in the upper half of Alabama. That morning he changed his mind. He doesn't recall why. It was so unlike him. He decided to go to a little bitty town in the southwestern corner of Alabama instead. Different, but not earthshattering.
Tuesday rolled around and I go off to school. Here is where we began to notice little things that just didn't make sense. My mother was planning on going shopping in a town about 30 miles away. She was to leave around 8:00. She kept putting off leaving. Never could understand why. Then she sat down to balance her checkbook. Why is that odd? She NEVER balances this because it is NEVER wrong. But she sat down because the desire suddenly swelled up to do it. As she was finishing up, the phone rang. It was a neighbor that rarely talked to us. They talked for about 15 minutes when suddenly the operator chimed in that there was an emergency call for her and to please hang up. She did and the next thing said to her knocked her off her feet. My father had had a massive heart attack and was being flown to another city for care. We needed to get there as soon as possible.
How do you think in a situation like this? You don't. You just move with a goal in mind with no idea on how to get there.
She hung up and kept saying to herself that she had to pack. Pack. What? There on the bed was the clothes she had washed that morning neatly folded and not put up. That was unusual. She ALWAYS put it up as soon as the drier was done. She didn't have to rummage through drawers. She didn't have to hunt in my messy room. It was all right there. She pulled the suitcase down and just put in everything that was on the bed.
Now, to pick me up. My day started off normal until right before she arrived when I was pulled out of one class to help a teacher on some projects. Therefore, I was NOT where I was supposed to be and where the office thought I was. When she got to the school, they were searching and searching for me. As they were getting frustrated in walked one of the football players who was an office assistant and realized who they were looking for. "I just saw her in Ms. Gibson's class". He ran down the hall to get me. Thank God, he walked in when he did.
Ok, off we go to Pensacola which was a few hours away. We had never been in this city so knew nothing of its layout. As we travelled along, my mother told me to read the map and figure out the best exit to take. If they were to do heart surgery, it would be Sacred Heart. If not, then it would be Baptist. So which one do you go searching for first? The first one you find.
We literally sped down the highway. My mother never speeds. You go 2 mph over and she panics. As we approached the outskirts, she had me consult the map. It seemed that the second exit would be the best choice. As we approached the first one, something screamed through ever part of me to get off here. I quickly told her to take this exit. When she asked why as she did it anyway, I said that I didn't know but something said to do it.
Now, we are on the city streets. Which way do we go? One sweet lady, said that both hospitals were located toward the west. So we went that direction. Couldn't find anything. Instead of driving around the rest of the day we decided to call one of the hospitals and see where he was. With forced optimism we called Baptist. Yes, he was there. Another "Thank You, God." When we hung up and asked the gas station attendant where Baptist was, he laughed and said right behind us. WOW!
We got there to find him conscience and crying when he saw us out of fear and relief. Then we found out more of those strange workings.
The town my father was supposed to have gone to, didn't have a hospital for 30 miles. The town he ended up in. had a small hospital which was not much more than a clinic, but they had JUST put in a helicopter pad that was to be used for transporting patients to Pensacola. They also JUST got in some new medication to help slow down a heart attack. Everything JUST happened to work out perfect.
The sweet lady that directed us actually hunted us down to see if we made it alright. A phone call from the neighbor came to see how he was.
My father was given 14 more years. He shaped up his eating habits and began to walk regularly. He even took us all to Disney World to celebrate his life and my graduation.
That was a miracle. Thank you, God for the big ones and the little one.
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