A life of miracles

As an infant, crawling around beneath my father on the carpet, I found and swallowed an almond whole.

The Korean War had left my dad with forty percent loss of hearing, so he didn’t realize he’d dropped the almond nor that I’d swallowed it.

The doctor didn’t know either.

All he did know was that I was obviously in a lot of pain and running a high fever, with apparently no reason.

But God worked a miracle.

The only reason I know anything about the circumstance is the almond ended up in my diaper.

Mom made sure I knew how God had worked in my infant-hood to heal and protect me.

At the age of four, I had to undergo surgery.

My adenoids were causing me hearing loss.

It was definitely God who walked me through the frightening moment of being taken from my parents to prep me for surgery.

The miracle for me was how quick it all seemed.

I remember the nurse taking me away and then I was waking up to my dad sitting next to me and hearing it was all over.

For my parents the miracle was in my condition.

No longer did I have chronic ear infections, and my hearing was perfect.

At age six I was rushed into emergency surgery.

Through my own foolishness, I’d been hit in the right eye by a stick from the ground.

It had broken off inside my eye.

The best eye surgeon the hospital could get worked to repair the damage.

Again, God showed up.

By a complete miracle my retina was unharmed.

Although, I’d lost part of my iris and had a tear in my cornea, there was minimal damage considering what had happened.

Weeks of antibiotics followed, due to the obvious danger of bacterial infection from the stick.

People all over were praying for me.

God answered.

I never had an infection, infact my eye sight in that eye was 20-45 for many years.

At age 17, I again under went emergency surgery.

My appendix was on the verge of bursting.

God was there.

The miracle this time was the fact that it didn’t burst and recovery was swift.

At the age of twenty-one, I went through my third emergency surgery.

While giving birth to our first daughter I’d torn my cervix.

It had gone unnoticed and five weeks later I tore it again.

After nearly passing out from loss of blood I was admitted to the prep room.

God stepped in with a miracle.

I didn’t die.

At the age of 34, I returned to the hospital for surgery.

I need a hysterectomy.

I’d been unwell for nine months.

My slender frame was down to 90 lbs.

My body was in such constant pain that I couldn’t sleep and eating was very minimal.

God preformed a miracle.

My first conscious thought was of relief and joy.

I was out of pain.

The recovery was long and slow, but I improved.

I’m 42 now.

It’s been almost a year since I was diagnosed with asthma.

It’s been more than a year since my family has had to learn how to adjust, because, “Mom is sick”.

It’s been about a month since we moved and it has definitely been a miracle.

And God hasn’t finished yet.

He’s healing me every day.

He’s walked me through so much.

My life is a testimony to the goodness of God.

His Mercy, faithfulness, and love are so evident.

I’ve told all this before and I’m sure I’ll tell it all again.

It’s a story worth telling:

A life full of miracles.

But mine is not the only one.

Every life is surrounded by God’s miraculous works.

Whether they are recognized or not.

Every breath is a miracle.

Each beautiful life is a miracle.

I’ve shared mine.

How will you share yours?

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