A few years ago, I read C.S. Lewis’s book Miracles. I later found it received a lot of criticism and negative reviews, but I found the book in of itself a miracle to me at the time, because it contained powerful lessons I needed at the exact moment I opened it.
Lately, I’ve been anxious, worried about the future concerning recent events regarding my grandfather, my boyfriend, and my dog. I have also been praying. A lot. Here’s a story about that-
Last week, my dog Marley stopped eating his food. He began vomiting. He was given medicine to treat ulcers. Marley continued avoiding his food bowl, continued vomiting, continued losing muscle mass, continued being lethargic and pitiful. Finally, our Vet told us yesterday afternoon to bring Marley in to the office first thing the following morning for surgery. This would make it the second incision from his chest to his lower abdomen to investigate his condition. We hated the thought, but we also wanted answers, because this little boy wasn’t getting any better.
I’ve always been taught to pray. My dad used to have us kneel beside him with heads bowed at our bedside before we were tucked in. I never fully comprehended the power of prayer until I was much older and wiser, but I am a firm believer in it these days.
Last night, we shed our tears and mourned over the possibility that our baby would not be okay- that something would remain in his system, causing him to suffer, until the day eventually came that… well, you know… The thoughts were disparaging, and I held my baby’s stomach and paw, and whimpered while my forehead rested on his. I started to think about my recent thoughts of dealing with loss, and how I wasn’t ready to do that yet– “I am still unprepared. I don’t want this. I want him to get better and enjoy a full and happy life with us.”
So I closed my eyes with my head still bowed above his, and I silently spoke. You can call it meditation, prayer, self-talk… whatever. I pleaded with my Maker last night. And when I finished, I felt better. And I felt like He heard me. He listened. So I slept, and the following morning- this morning- Marley ate a little bit of his food. I left for work. While on my morning commute, my boyfriend called me.
-Marley just pooped probably two feet of rope. It’s shaped like his small intestine.
I was ecstatic. I felt confident about our dog making a full recovery. When I got to work, I sent a text to my boyfriend.
-I feel so much better knowing Marley did that this morning. I prayed over him so hard last night, and I thought- I just want his pain to go away… I’m relieved.
-Yes I did, too. And I’m almost 100 percent sure that was the problem…
I realize a lot of people do not believe in creation, a creator, a heaven, a hell, or the power of prayer… but sometimes, despite the skepticism and all that anxiety that comes with it, you gotta have a little faith. Because miracles, believe it or not, happen every day.