I would say I have been praying for a miracle in one (or more) of my kids for a year now.
But, y’know, it’s probably one of those things where you think, spring feels like a small miracle sometimes. My kids hanging up their towels sometimes feels like a series of miracles. And hey, let’s not forget the miracles God’s doing in me (to the tune of, Wow, when that kid flipped his lid, I didn’t flip mine. Miracle.)
There’s a question Jesus asks a blind man in the book of Mark that I am occasionally a little jealous of.
“What do you want me to do for you?”
I picture the man there, not seeing the hairy legs he sits in front of. Knowing what Jesus smells like, committing his voice to memory. Perhaps the man reaches out a hand, adding a fabric texture to his mental portrait.
So I had a major triumph last week–one I hope to share with you soon. Because it was AWESOME. I talked with friends on the phone out in the sunshine, skipping a little. It’s kind of one of those Who am I, and what is my family? moments, I told them–because that’s what David said when he was over the moon with God’s kindness (2 Samuel 7:18). It was good news I’d been working toward for about 14 years.
And after about two years searching and clawing for joy and purpose, it felt goooooood.
Then, about 24 hours later, I hit one of the lowest moments in my parenting I’d experienced. Wednesday night was spent weeping, and I think we could be dealing with this for a long time.
![Now You're Speaking My [Love] Language](https://www.janelbreitenstein.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/love-languages-text-1.jpg "Now You're Speaking My [Love] Language")
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