When I walked to the shoreline, there was a Kingfisher just down the bank.
Across the creek, a Great Blue Heron plodded.
This morning I got a note from a friend who has cancer and is struggling through treatment. He was flown to Hopkins and is in the ICU. He asked for prayer.
I prayed. I wrote and sent him a prayer. I am praying. I will be praying. I haven’t stopped. It never feels like enough.
What I want for him is a miracle. A return to health and home and family and worship and all the things he loves and that love him back.
How about a miracle, God? Have you seen the world lately? Have you seen how we behave? How we treat one another? Most of us don’t deserve miracles. But you still give them. I can’t always figure out why or where, but it’s not on me to do that. Miracles are you, God.
I can hear Bob Weir singing, “I need a miracle every day”–and I get that.
I feel it in my soul–the miracles of morning coffee and a hug in the kitchen, and making breakfast for my daughters, of a world where the seasons change and there are Kingfishers and Herons on the shoreline.
I think of the ICU. Where miracles are breath. And modern medicine. Doctors and nurses. Love of family. Technology. Communication. Patience. Time. Prayer. Hope.
I sit on the shoreline praying for my friend. I feel your presence all around me.
A jet flies over with its landing gear down; it’s a majestic sound and sight. It’s a miracle you’ve given us through the minds, reason, and intellect you created in us.
I pray now with tears in my eyes for multiple friends with cancer who love you and who share your love with others.
We all need miracles every day. Send some extras to those with cancer and to their families. Keep them connected to your love, your peace, your healing.
I lift them up to you, God.
Thanks for listening.
Love you.
Amen.
