Apr 302012



This week shall heretofore be named: Miracle Week.

The theme of the incoming emails in my inbox this past month has been: G : I need a miracle. There are marriages crumbling, children suffering, homes foreclosing, parents dying, addicts spiraling, hearts breaking.

It’s bad. It can get really, really bad out there. Life is hard- NOT because you aren’t doing it right, just because it’s HARD. Whenever I write that, people say “No- that’s so negative- it’s all about perspective. Life is beautiful.” And that always makes me wonder for a bit. I wonder if they’re right, that maybe life isn’t hard, that maybe I’m just experiencing it too hard. But I always come to the conclusion that – Nope, I’m right. Life’s hard. Not just hard, downright impossible, BRUTAL sometimes. And they’re right, it’s beautiful, too. No denying that. And/Both.

So at Momastery, many of us have accepted the truth that life is BRUTIFUL.

LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL was a GREAT movie and a nice bumper sticker, but it doesn’t ring COMPLETEY TRUE to me. Sort of like the “Life is Good” shirts. I mean, I like those shirts. Love them, actually. But I won’t wear mine lately, just in case I run into my friend Anna, who just lost her precious and only son Jack in a freak drowning accident near her backyard. Life is not always good and it is not always beautiful. Life is just NOT OKAY sometimes. But it sure is knock-you-out-gorgeous sometimes, too.

Life is Brutiful. And/Both. That’s the thing. In every moment, things are both awful and good. Our children are healthy, but our friend’s children are not. We got a big promotion at work, but our beloved father is sick and not getting better. We feel blessed to stay home with our kids, but we really want to run away from home sometimes. We feel blessed to work and have good child care, but we miss our kids and feel guilty some days. We have beautiful homes, enough food on the table, and decent health care- but most folks don’t. We have healthy bodies, but we’re ten pound overweight. We have thin bodies, but they won’t work right.

And everybody’s always telling us to BE GRATEFUL BE GRATEFUL BE GRATEFUL and there is something to that. But for me, gratitude comes in moments, all encompassing, out of time moments- Kairos momentsand as a general knowing in the back of my head and heart. Gratitude is not always front and center for me.  And I don’t want to be bossed or guilt-ed into gratitude. Life is beautiful, and there is much for which to be grateful. But life is also tough. The big things are tough –  like I’m sick, and I’m not getting better, and the little things are tough, like – WHY IS THIS PLAYDOH SO FREAKING HARD TO OPEN? The big and the little stuff get me down. And that’s okay. No need to be grateful all the time. Really, it’s okay to notice the brutal. We can feel it, sit with it, and allow ourselves to acknowledge it. It won’t swallow us up forever, if we let ourselves go there, we’ll eventually see the beautiful again. We don’t have to feel grateful all the time, even if we’re living pretty sweet lives in comparison to the rest of the world. Pain is pain, and we all get the privilege of feeling it.

Anyway, my problem with all the pain my Monks share is that I can’t make miracles happen for them. This drives me an itty bit NUTS, as you might imagine. But I CAN use this blog to prove that miracles are possible. That they happen everyday. That there is reason to hope.


Kay- If you have a second today: Please reread this essay. Fourteen. It’s important. Don’t cheat and skip ahead.


Okay, are you back? Hello, Lovie.


So…. I’m at the zoo with the fam last week (one million mom points, done for the month) and I get an email. The email is from Mary Margaret. She has found my blog. She writes the following:


 imagine my surprise to be reading the huffington post last week (while my husband was out of town and my son fast asleep in his crib) to stumble upon a blog written by someone named glennon. hmm, this reminded me of my old buddy, also named glennon, and caused me to do a quick google search of glennon doyle. i found your blog. i read your bio. i looked at your photos. i realized that this beautiful and accomplished mom had to be the same sad (but still amazingly fun), confused, teenager i came to adore as my roommate at dominion hospital so many years ago. your accomplishments, family and writing would be inspiring if i did not know you, but are even more so because our paths crossed back in the day. i am sure you get a million and one emails and mine is no different. you may not even remember me and that is fine, but i wanted to tell you that your candor, honesty and genuineness are clearly the real deal. thanks for giving me a new blog to check out and for reminding me that we have come a long way!




And I started crying right there in the reptile house.  I wrote back immediately and said, I’m here. I’m here. My heart stopped when I saw your name. Are you okay?

And she wrote back a few looooooong minutes later:


i am sorry i started an email conversation with you and then abandoned ship. i had to head out to a yoga class i was about to be late to. i live all the way across the country in washington state. just about 15 miles from seattle (where i used to live pre-child). i am healthy. i am married. my son is beautiful. XO.



She is healthy. She is married. Her son is beautiful. Please tell me- What are the chances? Sick little girls get better. Not all of them, but many do. In our eating disorder unit, 100 percent of us got healthy –  me and Mary Margaret. That end result was totally against the odds. No one in his right mind would have bet on it- certainly not our doctors- and so I call this a MIRACLE.


If you’d like to leave a miracle here, or on the facebook page sometime this week, take the time to do it, please. TRUST ME- there are people reading this who need reasons to hope. And they come here to find those reasons – to read stories to hold in their hearts as they walk tall through their bruitful days.


Back tomorrow- it’s Miracle Week, folks!!!!







Carry On, Warrior
Author of the New York Times Bestselling Memoir CARRY ON, WARRIOR
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  216 Responses to “Miracle Week!”

  1. I came across your blog about a month ago and have been making my way through the archives while I’ve been in hospital with anorexia. I just happened to find this today. It was perfect for my heart. Thank you. Deeply.

  2. I feel like a miracle every day–survived a traumatic childhood: molested, drowned, shot and grew up to earn a college degree. Husband died after three years of brain cancer when my girls were 4 and 6. The youngest just made the Dean’s list her first year of college far, far away from home. The eldest is still home but about to make the leap to college too. It has been a haul–we were on the leading edge of the economic meltdown. Lost my job, sold my house at a loss and headed north to Alaska. Lost my job, lost my car, lost my house this time and moved nine times in three years to get away from all the creepy slumlords. Going on three years in the same rental now, getting back on my feet with a better job the past five years but still working two jobs to keep the kid in college. God is great. The trick is just to get up each morning and do your best, whether it is showing up for work, or showing up at the job center to apply for jobs. Don’t give up, my friends. It isn’t easy but it is do-able and worth it.

  3. […] past or present. We shared, we laughed, we discussed, we cried and we loved together. It was brutiful in Glennon’s term. (brutal + beautiful). This talking of journeys and paths of lives was […]

  4. My precious Uncle was diagnosed at 55 with pancreatic cancer in April on 2010. He was stage 4 – the doctor’s went in to do a whipple surgery to remove some of the tumor and they could only do a partial whipple due to the proximity of the tumor to the aorta. We grieved as a family and yet he kept on living. We made arrangements for his death and estate and he kept on living. He never believed it was his time and the doctors gave him no time at all. In January of 2011 the tumor had shrunk so much (beyond any doctors comprehension) that they went in to do a reverse partial whipple and take out the tumor! This doctor was in NYC and did more whipples than any other doctor in the country. He had never seen anything like this. The surgery was a success! He went through a little more chemo and this month they took his port out and pronounced him CANCER FREE! He is still living life to the fullest and is our miracle. Just believe monkees:)

  5. Hi, not sure if it fits, but I just posted about my daughter’s birth. It was over 6 years ago and still strikes me as miraculous (having lost two babies mid pregnancy and being in my forties I was potentially facing childlessness before she arrived).

    I hope everyone who needs their miracle gets one – if not the one they long for, then at least the miracle of harvesting some wisdom from their heartbreak.

  6. wow!! I am SO happy – well, I guess happy for you and for Mary Margaret…but it also makes me feel happy to read that she found you…and that she is well. yeah!

  7. The miracle I’m presently witnessing is my friend dealing with the death of her 7yo son to leukemia this past January. A few weeks ago she said she wasn’t feeling so much despair anymore…but compared her pain to that of being in labor…it hurts so bad…like no pain she’s ever felt before (and she admitted she will always think it unfair, for as long as she lives)…but it’s ultimately leading to something good. Just like childbirth. She also said she was starting to think Jesus dying on a cross was less about him “being a sacrifice for humanity” and more about showing humanity that we can walk through hellish circumstances and come out alive. Literally. And if you choose to believe that Jesus died and then came back to life, it give us an amazing, crazy kind of hope that yes, in the end, love really does win. Miracle.

  8. […] it’s miracle week at Momastery, so I want to share a miracle of my […]

  9. […] it’s miracle week at Momastery, so I want to share a miracle of my […]

  10. I am one of those girls, happy, healthy, two beautiful children. Very blessed.

  11. Out of sorrow, heartbreak and tears comes the miracle of love, faith and new life. This family lost their baby at 4 mo. and knew their chances of having a healthy baby the “old fashioned way” were very slim. Thanks to IVF they now have two healthy, beautiful, happy children. The miracle is their love for each other, their desire to have a family and their perseverance.

  12. I’m a United Methodist pastor, sometimes awash in grace and miracles and sometimes just flailing around unsure if anything I’m doing is helpful or useful. This past Friday I did a funeral for a sweet older man whose family was in a fair bit of disarray. After the service, while driving the short distance to the graveside, I wondered if anything I’d said had been helpful or useful — did I do anything to plant seeds to heal the rifts? Then I started apologizing to God for my big ego and the need to be in control.

    After the short graveside service, a rough looking man approached me. He took my hand and said, “I’ve never heard a lady do a funeral before. Where is your church? I want to go. I felt closer to God than I have in a very long time.”

    And I felt all sort of puffed up for a second, me and my ego, but then he said, “It was the sound of your voice. The sound of your voice made me feel closer to God.”

    And I saw the miracle right there. The sound of my voice – nothing I did, none of my cleverness, none of my heart tugging. None of that. Scriptures tell us that God is in the breath. In fact, the Jewish word RUACH means spirit, wind, breath. It’s God, where God is. So despite me and my ego, God was present there at the funeral in the sound of my voice.

    And I knew God was giving me a little wink. A little miracle wink. God is there.

  13. The biggest miracle of my life came 6 years ago when I developed HELLP syndrome during my first pregnancy. My liver was shutting down and I could no longer clot my blood. I was 7 weeks from my due date. The doctor gave us enough time for me to say goodbye to my husband before rushing me into surgery. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was dying, and would never see my baby grow up or see my husband again. Three days later, I woke up in the ICU, not even aware that my baby had been born. And then they wheeled a tiny little miracle in to see me. My little guy was alive, and despite some early health issues, has grown into a strong, smart, healthy 6 year-old. I believe with all my heart that God gave us a miracle that day. I will be forever grateful.

  14. This brought me chills. I have a friend who passed away from her eating disorder in her late 20s. She never made it to 30.

    To see this post brings me hope, that other people won’t lose the ones they love.

    Thank you for this.

  15. Okay, so I get the whole concept of a miracle being this huge, somewhat serendipitous thing, this thing that is rare and happens few and far between. And although I get the concept, I don’t believe it. I believe we’ve labeled a miracle as such. (And by ‘we’, I’m talking about the We of Western culture.)

    I believe our labeling of things as Good, Bad, Brutal, Beautiful, a Miracle, is something we do because we naturally use language to communicate, and this is how we share concepts and ideas with each other.

    Shortly after being diagnosed with breast cancer I was introduced to a different concept. And although I don’t know how to spell it, because I’ve only ever *heard* the word, the way I spelled it (when I had a necklace made with the word) is: Wasah.

    Wasah means: already healed. Already done.

    It’s the idea that everyone should expect miracles. That everyone is worthy of miracles…so much so that your miracle is that you are already healed. It is already done.

    Of course, I deeply understand that this fits into the category of “easier said than done.” This Wasah concept was also coupled with YEARS of study and practice of Trusting What Is. So when I went for my *first* mammogram at age 40 and was called back the following day (after being told I’d receive a letter in the mail the following week) because there was something the doctor needed to look more closely at, there was no fear of what might be happening, there was only Trusting What Is, which was what? An Assessment. That’s all that was happening at that point. Followed by more films, more ultrasounds, eventually a biopsy: all additional assessments, nothing more.

    Yes, they led to a cancer diagnosis, but then what? I needed to find a breast surgeon to assess further. Each step of the way I continued to move my feet, believing that NO MATTER what happened, there is a force larger than I am who is guiding Life. And through that force I believed: Thy Will Be Done. Whatever ‘Thy Will’ ended up being.

    And THAT I Trust.

  16. Oh Anna! That is exactly the same thing I’m dealing with-except it is my dear sweet loving giving sister who is a nurse and raising 4 children. Her life has been turned upside down by a lying cheating mentally unstable husband. She lives in Oregon and I’m in canada!

  17. This is a not a miracle like many of the others (no recovery from illness, etc.), but I believe that many of the acts of kindness performed by individuals can be small miracles in other people’s lives.

    I work at an advocacy center for children where I interview kids daily who have been sexually or physically abused or have witnessed a crime. Their stories are heartbreaking. Many of the teens who come in have waited years to tell about what happened to them and have had pretty difficult lives due to their struggles dealing with the abuse.

    I have an AMAZING intern right now named Kristin. She inspires me daily and reminds me of the good in the world. She is so uplifting and kind, but is also incredibly genuine.

    We had a teen come in a few weeks ago who had been assaulted for many years by a family member. She was very angry and bitter (rightfully so) and did not have a good relationship with her family (who had handled her abuse less than idealy). The teen was talking to Kristin about how she was going to leave town as soon as she turned 18 and she didn’t care if she ever saw her family again. Kristin asked her what she wanted to do and the teen said she didn’t know. She asked Kristin how she got into “helping people.” Kristin explained that she had been a hair stylist for many years and decided to go back to school to finish her degree now in her 30s, because she knew she really wanted to be able to work with kids.

    Their conversation went more or less as follows (I cannot guarantee word for word, so don’t fault me for the quotes!) Teen: “I probably wouldn’t be able to do anything like that.” Kristin: “I think you would be great at working with people.” Teen: “Really?” Kristin: “Sure! I can tell you have a big heart and you are good at talking with people and you are a good listener – those are the main things you need.” The teen smiled and then just sat in silence for a bit. Then she looked at Kristin and said “No one has ever told me I was good at anything before.”

    Now, maybe this doesn’t seem like a miracle, but I think it is pretty amazing that a young woman with no confidence could come to a place to talk about what may be the worst thing that’s happened in her life – and leave with a little confidence and a little hope for her future, maybe for the first time in her life.

    • There is always a miracle in having the right person in the right place at the right time. Kristin is EXACTLY what that young woman needed. The timing was perfect. That type of perfection is a miracle for certain.

    • Yes. THAT is a miracle. Thanks for sharing.

  18. I was happy — and a little relieved to read this post. It was so spot on for me. I live what you would call a blessed life…I have a wonderful husband and two awesome boys; I’ve never been really sick, I’ve never had anyone close to me die or become really sick. We’re doing well financially, have a place to live and food to eat. I’m happy (relatively). I have no reason to gripe or feel sad, right? But yet I do sometimes…and i feel bad about it because of the abundance and joy in my life. I have no idea why ive been so fortunate and others are not. As a stay at home mother, I experience the stresses of every day…kids whining ALL DAY, breaking up fights, feeding someone else AGAIN, not knowing what my place is in this world and what I will do if I decide to go back to work. That gets me down because there are others that are going through really bad stuff. So I feel horrible that I get down about yelling at the boys to stop hitting each other for the thousandth time. My husband, trying to help me put things into perspective, tells me that we’re all good and that we have so many blessings; be grateful. And I am, grateful, but there are days when I’m just sad. I want to wallow in my sadness, have a good cry and then get over it. because being a mother is HARD and sometimes I don’t know if I’m up for it. Yet I show up every day for those two wonderful boys and hope all works out.

    I just wanted to say thank you for telling me that is ok to feel this way. I was starting to feel really guilty. I’m glad I’m not the only one out there.

    • Preach it Leah! Amen! Amen. You wrote my story exactly (except add in one more kid, a girl, to the mix) :-)
      Bless you Leah!

      • Thanks Jamie! I was thinking more about this last night (and what i didnt convey in my original post) is that while we may be doing fine, everyone has pain or sadness, no matter what the cause may be. And I think that everyone is — or should be — allowed to feel that sadness and own it because it’s real for that person. It doesn’t mean that we don’t feel badly for those who are really suffering because we do. And it doesn’t mean that we’re not grateful for what we have because we are.

    • Leah – You are NOT the only one! Me too!!! Thanks so much for sharing so honestly.


    When my first child made her way into the world, she did not follow my birth plan. When my pushing didn’t work, my OB tried the vacuum and when that didn’t work, out came the forceps. When Megan finally made her grand entrance, she was bruised and battered. She was also floppy. And that is not a good thing in newborns. A CT revealed she had a bleed in her head, presumably from the forceps. The only pediatric neurologist in the community was vacationing at the beach. We got transferred to another hospital nearby.

    We were scared. Crazy scared. We were told this new hospital was going to get another CT to see if the bleed was progressing. Then we were told some of the things that might need to happen if that were the case. None of these sounded good. Sitting in the waiting room I watched a young girl walk down the hall with a woman. The woman went to the desk near us and the girl came into the waiting room, tucking herself behind a corner. After a few seconds I heard someone exclaim, “Megan’s mom!” and I jump up – thinking for sure that they were calling me to tell me something urgent about my daughter. I saw my Megan’s tiny body being wheeled away for her CT but no one wanted to speak to me. Turns out – they weren’t talking to me. Just then, the young girl sitting in the waiting room joined her mother – presenting herself to the woman behind the desk. There were hugs and shrieks of joy. And then more hugs and joy as several nurses came out of the NICU to lay eyes on THIS Megan. Turns out, this Megan was a patient here 18 years ago. Born way too early, she stayed in the NICU for so long she grew some family. Family that still worked there. And remembered her. And were brought to tears when they learned that she was in college. She was happy. She was healthy.

    In the clearest way imaginable, I knew witnessing this Megan’s “family reunion” was a miracle.

    • Your quote, “…she stayed in the NICU for so long she grew some family…” caused me to burst into tears. What a lovely, graceful phrase. Thank you.

  20. You’re asking for miracles this week and I got one a few weeks ago, so I know I must share. My mom, who holds my whole crazy family together, went to the emergency room with severe stomach cramps on a Thursday night. Friday morning, my dad called and said that she had a bowel obstruction and they could fix it with some fluids. They were wrong and within a few hours, she was septic (poison flooding her system) and had a 50/50 chance of living. Now, I can’t pretend that my mom is perfect or that my family is perfect and I especially can’t pretend that I am perfect. But my mother loves us all unconditionally. Of that, we’ve all always been sure. She has raised and is raising several of her grandchildren. We are spread out across the country and she keeps us connected. She reminds us that even though we are capable, independent people, we still need each other.
    Anyway, 50/50 chance. That’s not good enough for someone who holds her family together. When I heard that (how quickly something can go from routine to life threatening) I stood up from my desk at work and walked out to start the long drive from Ohio to Michigan. My sister and her son got on the first airplane from Arizona. My brother got in his car in Florida. We were rallying.
    By later that day, her chances were 10%. We prayed. And prayed. We begged prayers from “friends” on facebook. We requested presence on church prayer chains. And we waited. And waited. Trying to pretend that the terror on each other’s faces was unnecessary. Avoiding the faces of the other families with loved ones in ICU because their fear was our fear.
    It took three surgeries and several days, and the loneliest, saddest Easter, but eventually she had a 70% percent chance. Then the doctors and nurses began to be hopeful. Then the removed the ventilator. And we could talk to her. And she was awake. And weak.
    She’s home now. It’s been two weeks. There are other complications, but she is alive and she is going to continue being alive for the time being, anyway.
    We got a miracle. A genuine and true miracle – very few people who become septic make it. I don’t know why we deserved it. Or why we merited it. But I know we got it. And I know I have to tell everyone who will listen, or pretend to listen, or who stands still for a minute. Because we got a real life miracle. And we are so so grateful!

  21. 3 years ago I became spontaneously pregnant with triplets. I lost the twins at 13 weeks and the 3rd at 22 weeks. 6 months after our loss I became pregnant again and now have a healthy, happy little boy!

  22. This is the second time I missed your post the day it came out – and found it on the day I really needed it. A day when I must watch helpless from across the country as my brother’s wife destroys a family with lies and infidelity. And I can’t do anything. And I so need to believe that it will be OK for him.

    As always, Thanks, Glennon

    • Lifting you and him and his family up and wrapping you with love, Anna. It will be OK. He will find a way. I’m so sorry he has to traverse this path.

      Much love,


  23. […] came across this passage in a post on another blog I was reading this morning . . . “[E]verybody’s always telling us to BE GRATEFUL BE […]

  24. Our miracles don’t seem as miraculous as the other comments, but they are still miracles to us. Two years ago in June our birthmother gave birth to our beautiful daughter. 4 months later she was pregnant again and alone and scared. After a lot of back and forth, our second daughter was born in May. Our miracles are 11 months apart and I am so thankful every day for how God has blessed our family.

  25. A miracle is the blessing of looking at the good or the bad (they are really all the same) and then feeling a divine WHAMMY of conscious “I get it.” Seeing through the eyes of God, that is a miracle. YOU can practice and train yourself to see it all around, every day! Without sounding even more philosophically crazy, I must admit that I can’t handle witnessing too many miracles. They take the juice right out of me. It takes me days just to get back to “normal” again. I MUST start blogging just to get them down in paper…they are really good. Like the time I was hopelessly depressed feeling all alone at the supermarket in a LONG LINE carrying WIC checks and Jesus came right up to me and plucked me out of line and checked me out. (I didn’t know his name was Jesus until mid-check out, but my reaction was priceless.) Miracle! They are just everywhere…gotta look for them more if you want to find em.

  26. Omg sooo needed this today. I’m always trying hard to make things good that I don’t even give myself permission to just be ok with not liking it for a while.
    I was also one of those “sick little girls” but getting stronger everyday! Miracles have played a part in my life and believe that they happen when you least expect it.

  27. A miracle- my friend gets sick and can’t breathe right, ends up in the emergency room. She’s kept overnight and then the next nine days while they test her, can’t figure out what it is. Her baby girl is almost 1, hasn’t spent twelve hours away from her in her life and she doesn’t get to see her for five of those days. She’s assigned a team, one of her six doctors is from India, he fights for her and insists she be tested for a rare disease when everyone else makes fun of him.
    He’s correct, she’s diagnosed with micro-bacterial tuberculosis, non contagious and usually found in third world countries. She is 25 and has never set foot outside the country. She has a abscess the size of a grapefruit on her lung, if they hadn’t have figured it out she wouldn’t have survived the year. She still needs prayer, but now she has a name and a treatment and hope. She’s home with her baby girl awaiting the decision of whether or not she’ll receive surgery to remove part of her lung, but she has peace. Miracle. Please take a moment to pray for her and her family, but she’s so brave and sees the blessing in everything.

  28. w/o the bitter we would never understand the sweet, nor appreciate it’s wonderfulness

    i keep that in mind during the times i really wonder what the heck is going on in this world

    God, our Father, sent us here to learn and to grow…how can we learn or grow w/o opposition/bitter/down brutal things at times

    Glennon…i put you in a long long list of miracles in my life…your honesty, your willingness to simply say what needs to be said and how you say it…thank you!

  29. Thank you for giving “permission” to not constantly feel guilty for not constantly feeling grateful. One line hit me very, very hard. “I’m sick and I’m not getting better”. I have ignored the fact that I am, indeed, sick and am also not getting better. After some tears for the last hour, I accept this and that I don’t need to be grateful about merely being alive (for right now this moment). Thank you, Glennon.

  30. My friend encouraged me to post about our miracle. My son was diagnosed before his first birthday with AML Subtype M7 with the added oddity of a chromosomal abnormality. This is not the “normal” leukemia you normally see diagnosed in children (that form is ALL). It was an emotionally wrenching time trying to negotiate life, jobs, and the inclusion of our eldest daughter – who felt the most troubled. Our family had NEVER been apart until those 6 months in the hospital. Our oldest daughter struggled to make sense of it and put on her brave face for us while breaking down privately.

    My son is now 6+ years in remission and those days are a faded memory. My friend who encouraged me to post said that we were an inspiration – I disagree vehemently most times people say that. I mean – we did what any parent would do, right? However, I am often reminded that sick children cause marriages to crumble, finances to ruin, and dysfunctional home life where the climb out is tough.

    Our family, friends, and community were amazing – just that serendipity (God speaking!). And those days were certainly BRUtiful. If any other parent is facing a child’s diagnosis of AML (Acute Myeloid Leukemia) please feel free to view our journey through Caring Bridge at http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/mikeyschyck I am always happy to try and help new caregivers. Many blessings to all of you!

  31. Thank you for this… my miracle is actually a friends miracle. Long story short is after a long time and lots of stuff and lots and lots of prayers to become parents they adopted the most beautiful little boy! I truly was witness to a miracle and will remember it every day.
    However, this post has made me cry. Cry so hard for all the brutiful things that go one in so many lives. How is it that you put words on paper that I think… people say ‘be grateful’ to me all the time and I try, I really try but sometimes it’s just hard! Thank you for being so honest and sharing such personal stories… the miracles I’ve read about give me hope! Thank you, thank you, thank you….

  32. As it happens, in my little world, something that counts as a very big miracle happened just today. In the second of 2 very long, drawn-out appointments to assess my little munchkin for autism and other developmental disorders (this after 2 very long years of therapies, hospital stays, every kind of developmental delay you can imagine, and many, many long days and nights filled with lots of tears amidst the laughter)…well, today the doctor said she doesn’t believe my precious little boy is on the spectrum, that he is cognitively meeting enough milestones to warrant a good prognosis, and she is very hopeful. This is hard to believe when you go to preschool each day and watch the other children chatting away while yours is just learning basic sentences…but I know and believe in my heart she is right. I’ve held on to that hope through a lot of evidence to the contrary, and through many pitied looks from therapists who think I’m dreaming in technicolor….today that hope was validated! Hurray for small and big miracles (and this one’s a doozy in my world!)

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