Oct 17, 2011

The Making Of A Miracle - Part 5

Recap from last post:
* I was learning about the making of a miracle and some key ingredients
* Lyndsay's pet name now included Princess.. not just Sweet Pea.
* I audaciously blurted and declared that Princess was going to be taken care of, and I had NO   encouragement,  no idea how. It's almost like I was outside of my own body. Who was this illogical   (ridiculous, crazy) woman?

After my meeting with the government, I settled back into the regular routine of life with a family, and a special needs child with no help. Let's just say it was challenging. (often draining, difficult, hard, seemingly endless). You know what I mean by challenging. You've been there. Or you are there. Or you may be there.

There's a lot of enduring and perseverance and a chosen perspective that is written in between the lines of a miracle in the making. It ain't all guns and roses.

It's more like poopie diapers, long days and sleepless nights... just sayin".

It's called process. The big learning that happens between here and there. Remember, it has to seem impossible.

Not long we arrived, my parents took a trip up to Kelowna to visit us. As we chatted one day, my dad pulled out a business card and told me about his discovery on a walk one day. He thought I might be interested in the organization and the services they had to offer. He challenged me to give them a call. After he left, I kept the card on my desk, and with the busyness of life, I eventually stuck it in a drawer for some other time, some other frame of mind. Truthfully, I forgot about it.

A few weeks after we settled into Kelowna, I got a call from the government about my application. You see, despite the bad report from the social worker,  I still presented my case and asked that they would consider a request for the exact same amount of services as what I had received in Ontario.

I wish I could remember more of this part of the story... but I was in survival mode. When you're in survival mode... sometimes things are a little foggy. That's probably a good thing.  Even though you may not remember all the good details... you also don't remember all the bad details.

Here's what I do remember. Long story short.
  • We were given access to respite funds, even before the 3 month waiting period was up. 
  • Later... (can't remember how much longer... maybe a month or so?) I was given a meeting with the head of the organization and he let me know that we had been approved for the same amount of funding as we had in Ontario.
We were elated, excited, relieved, thankful, grateful, humbled and overall just pumped. We had some relief! Life could become manageable again!

Wow! That talk with God really panned out!! He really did consider her! Ha ha!

The deep inner feeling and bold declaration that she would be taken care of was matched with tangible results.  And I didn't have to labor and fight for it.

Inside, I felt like a kid who is fighting bullies on a playground and in a last minute attempt for survival, screams out:

Oh ya! Well my dad is bigger than your dad!

My Dad showed up and He really was big!  The bullies of doubt and fear and a bad report went scurrying far from my mind that day. I would never forget this. I had some more experience and new found chapter of history with this best friend of mind.

Around the same time, my husband was somewhere (don't ask me where... remember, intermittent fogginess can accompany a season of persevering, process and pressing in).

Anyways, one early morning, my husband was talking to God. This morning had an unusual moment. He felt this huge sense that God was right there with him. Then God said to Him:

On October the 13th, I am going to do something for you.

Ah... excuse me God... what?!

My husband had also found God to be a trusted friend and had become familiar with His voice.......but this was way out there.

October the 13th you are going to do something?!!!
Do you wanna tell me what?

That's all he heard, so he booked an appointment on Oct. 13 in his calendar and wrote:
God is going to do something. 

That was it, he got on with his day, and it went quickly out of his mind.
He never did mention it to me.

Tomorrow, more of the story.

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