I've seen a lot of miracles in my life lately and my wonderful mother in law encouraged me to write them down (especially one in particular) and though I do keep a notebook journal, I'm way too wordy to hand-write these things, typing is much faster.
The Miracle of Safety:
A few weeks ago we were in the market for a couch (Actually, we're still in the market for a couch, but that's beside the point), and so I woke up early one morning, made a list of about 9 thrift stores within 3 or 4 miles of our house, bathed and dressed Nolan, loaded up the stroller and headed out. I was on a roll and ready to shop without stopping until I found a perfectly cheap couch for our bare living room. It wasn't until I got to the first shop that I realized it was only about 10:00 and none of the shops on my list opened until 11:00. So Nolan and I dove into a few shops that had nothing to do with what we were looking for, and after a rather rushed morning to get out the door, a casual, leisurely stroll down the sidewalk, with no sense of hurry or rush, felt great. As we dipped in one shop and out of another we seemed to run into the same woman with a stroller several times. She seemed nice enough and we ended up walking down the sidewalk right behind her for quite some time. After what was close to a mile of walking behind her (keep in mind that we had nowhere to go and nothing to do for another hour, so we were not in a hurry and I was not feeling rushed, anxious, or anything but relaxed, really) we came to a red light and so we each stopped with our stroller rather than entering the cross walk. The other stroller-pusher was on her phone, and appeared to be writing a text message when suddenly the light turned green and we were authorized to walk in the cross walk. She didn't notice because she was texting, and although I wasn't annoyed, miffed, or in a hurry, I was compelled to go out and around her and begin crossing the street. Just as I was even with her, she realized she could cross and she started to go, but somewhere inside of me I found a rude version of myself and quite honestly without having any idea why I was doing it, I sped up and cut her off, only to walk in front of her through the cross walk. I immediately wondered what had gotten into me and why I passed her for no reason at all, and I even started feeling badly and a bit ashamed, when from behind me I heard the screeching of tires, followed by screams and a loud crash. I turned around to see a car driving through the crosswalk I had just come out of and then crashing into a fire hydrant just inches away from the woman and her stroller I had passed. I then had a feeling I had never felt before, it was a feeling of seeing Nolan's and my lives pass right before my eyes, and realizing that if I had not passed the woman in the cross walk, Nolan and I would have been hit by the reckless car. I stood there in shock for probably half a minute, when I realized the other woman just avoided death as closely, if not closer than I did. I ran back to her, she was angry, and shaken up, but assured me she was okay. I offered to stay with her but there was already a swarm of witnesses gathered around her and she said she felt comfortable and safe. Then she said, "I'm so glad you weren't still behind me". I left her, burst into tears, called Collin, but he was in class, so I tried to gain my composure but I had to call somebody. I dialed my mom, trying to be brave as to not worry her, but as soon as I heard her voice and started to retell the story, my emotions came flooding back. The entire story is one I will never forget, and something that has stuck with me vividly ever since. I know that Heavenly Father was watching over Nolan and me and that we were being protected by sources greater than our own. What seemed to be a rude and inconsiderate move of passing in front of the woman and her stroller, ended up being a push from the Spirit that saved our lives. I'm so grateful miracles still exist!!
The Miracle of A God Who Knows Us:
I love Chicago. I love riding the bus or the subway to get where I need to go. I love the fast-paced life on the streets, and the slow-paced life in my home. I love the weather, the scenery, the many activities and things to do, and I am so so grateful to be here, and to be happy. That being said, I can't remember the last time Collin and I had a Sunday dinner alone, without some form of family or extended family sharing the table with us. So, naturally, Sundays are a bit lonely for me. We've learned to cope by inviting friends and ward members over for Sunday dinner and that helps a lot, but this past Sunday, during church, I was really feeling home-sick for family, and in particular our parents. Just as I was sure I had my emotions under control, a senior missionary stood to bear his testimony and he immediately reminded me of my sweet father in law and the flood gates were opened, and my emotions came full force. I was longing for Collin's parents and my parents and my heart was heavy and sad. I realized that in Chicago we've made great friends with couples our age, but it was the companionship of somebody with the age and wisdom of our parents that I was really missing. The missionary was the last to bear his testimony and as soon as he sat down the bishop ended the meeting, we sang a song, had a prayer and no more then 5 seconds after the prayer was over, the woman sitting in front of me turned around. Her name is Sister Monson and she is about our parents' age. She looked at me and said, "Would you like to have lunch with me on Thursday?" I tried not to cry, but my eyes welled up with tears as I said, "I would LOVE to". We exchanged phone numbers and I walked away in awe of how quickly my desire and prayer for a parent-figure to fill the void of our parents was heard and answered by Heavenly Father. He knows us and He knows what is in our hearts and minds, and He does all He can do to make us happy. What a miracle! I'm so grateful.
The Miracle of Nice People:
Sometimes riding the bus with a stroller that we intentionally picked out to be larger and capable of carrying a lot, can be daunting. The stroller itself isn't heavy, but add $50 worth of groceries and a 17 pound baby, and my arms quickly become jello-like and insufficient, especially when presented with the task of lifting the load onto a bus. What makes the bus-riding journey even more intimidating at times is that when/if we physically make it onto the bus, I then have to lock the wheels in place while I pay for our ride, and then I have to find a place for us to sit. Like I say, we have a larger than normal stroller (which is PERFECT for our needs) and so the only place it will fit on the bus is in the handicapped seating area which is designated for people in wheelchairs. However, thankfully, there's an unwritten law that if there are no wheelchairs on the bus, the stroller gets that space. I can not count the times when I've had my stroller packed to the brim after a long day of trying to find cheap groceries and even cheaper entertainment and some scary looking citizen will drop their shopping cart full of stuffed animals and trash sacks full of clothing and soda cans to hurry over and help me lift the stroller onto the bus. Nor can I count the number of times I've had a bold old lady or outspoken teenager insist that those sitting in the handicapped seats (and are not disabled) get up and move so the lady with the stroller can sit there. I've even had the bus driver throw the bus in park, help me on the bus, order his passengers to make room, and then lift the seats himself to make room for Nolan and me. 9 times out of 10 I get off the bus crying my eyes out, out of pure gratitude and amazement at the raw kindness of people. Grocery stores are a particularly hard place to maneuver. Mainly because I can't store the stroller somewhere ad be certain that it won't be stolen, so I use it as my shopping cart which means that when it's time to check out, I have to unload the groceries from the bottom area of the stroller, which makes getting items like watermelon out, very difficult. And almost always, Nolan is worn out at the end of a shopping trip and is fussing. So I'm usually bending down and reaching up from the stroller to the conveyer belt, one-handed. The last time I was at the store I had packed the stroller as full as I could possibly get it, in hopes to never have to return the store again. I got in line at the register, and as was to be expected, Nolan was fussy. I tried to unload, console, and hurry as best I could. Then came a man who was probably 75 or 80 and he started unloading the stroller for me. I tried and tried to tell him he didn't need to do that and his response, in true Grandpa Tom form was, "The doctor says I need the exercise to help with my arthritis so you're actually helping me". I began to cry as we formed the most efficient assembly line there ever was! I asked him his name, it was Ben, I told him 'thank you' a billion times, and he, being the smart man he was, went and got in a check out line at the other end of the store! Things were going great until I realized I was going to have to pack the bottom of the stroller the exact same way I packed it the first time, or everything would never fit, and me being the awesome person I am, there was ice cream to keep frozen. I convinced the cashier not to bag my groceries (I would have thought this would have been easier), and I started one-handedly trying to reload the stroller as best I could. Soon all of the groceries were scanned, I had paid, and my receipt was in hand, but about 75% of my groceries still sat on the grocery desk, waiting to be loaded in my stroller, and a line was forming. The woman behind me in line was dressed in her workout clothes and I was worried that she was going to be super efficient and in a hurry. Instead she said, "How old is your baby?" I could hardly hear her over his crying, but I told her, and then we had the most amazing talk about raising children and doing hard things. I quickly noticed that she was unloading her cart very, very slowly as to not rush me and make me feel uncomfortable, and all the while she was holding a conversation with me telling me how good of a job I was doing being a mom. I finally finished loading the stroller and I wanted to run over and give her a hug and tell her how much her kindness mean to me, and looking back, I wish I would have, but I just told her 'thank you' over and over, and headed for home. As soon as I reached the parking lot a box of cream cheese and a package of steaks fell off my stroller and I rolled right over them! I realized I had an audience and so I just said, "Well at least I don't have to soften my cream cheese now," and kept walking. Later in the week we had very flat steak on our shish-kabobs. :) But I wasn't worried about the steak or the cream cheese because my heart was so full from the kindness of the people I had encountered. I am so, so grateful for kind people and I know they're little gifts from my Heavenly Father to help get me through hard days. I've decided to create thank you cards the size of regular business cards, and keep them in my pocket so I can hand them to people who help me. I always wish I could send those kind people a thank you note, but a generic thank you card will have to do, since asking for a stranger's address probably isn't the best idea. :) I know that my hard days are nothing in the grand scheme of things, but in the moment they're always a big deal and I'm so grateful for kind people who help make the days easier.
Miracles still happen, every single day! And I'm so grateful for them in my life.
