Healing through the smallest of miracles

I wasn't sure I'd made the right decision as the rain started to mist from the sky as I drove; but still I drove as if it had never started. I was hungry for something to help me download the sorrow and pain of the last few months and nothing I'd tried thus far had done anything but left me starving with an unending anxiety. Of course if you compared my hunger to the ever-growing numbers on the scale; it would definitely be up for objection. However, today, I didn't have time to complain about what perfect numbers should appear on my scale or to count reps and sets as I looked around at the crowd of people in the gym around me; I needed to be here again, letting my feet decide my path...

I stretched toward the sky as the rain drops ran down my forehead and into my tired eyes. My feet seeming so anxious to finally take off and put some miles in after the week of snowed in days. Slowly I warmed up into a smooth pace trying not to allow myself to start off too fast. My mind once again returning to the place it always goes when I run. I was there sitting on the edge of the bed with the phone against my ear waiting for the news that had scared me all day. I ran as the thoughts crept in my mind. Little by little I heard the words of my baby sister in my ear....cancer.....Daddy.....here.....there.....everywhere.....I remembered her cries as I ran. My heart raced as my mind allowed its self to recall...

The sad truth about healing is that we have to put ourselves through the pain of remembering. It seems that the process would be quite the opposite. The mind can be that way, it always seems to require the one thing that we thought would hurt it more. However, here as I ran; I let my mind decide the fate of those 30 minutes. I ran and I cried as I remembered each moment of the five months that have passed since my father received his life changing news; but still my legs and feet led me through another path on my trail. And just when I thought my heart would explode, my mind took a different route and I saw him standing there waiting for me to dry my eyes. My Daddy there at every occasion I could recall. Waiting to kiss me goodbye for each prom and his chin quivering with tears as I boarded my first airplane; His arms open wide in the same spot of the airport when I returned. I saw him there with my sister as they danced at her wedding and his happy tears streaming down his face as my oldest sister delivered his first grandson to his anxious arms....

And finally, as I saw the end of my run in the distance ahead; my mind recalled the most precious memory of them all. The moment when that same grandson lay his son in his arms and he officially became a great grandfather. I'm sure the Lord has delivered us a sign as I imagine that my Dad is probably holding our sweet baby Jace as I type this for all of you to read. I just pray that this sweet little angel will continue to give him the strength that he needs to heal. We can heal if it is the Lord's will and we believe in the miracles that he can give to us. Thank him my friends, for each tiny little miracle that he blesses you with and don't forget to kiss them on their chubby little cheeks. "Strength is sometimes found in the Smallest of Miracles" Jena Goldberg