Live your life as if you are a miracle

This morning when I opened my eyes I groaned a bit with the first glimpse of the day before me. Outside my bedroom window lay a cloudy, grey, windy, cold, March madness. I lay long under the covers that tucked under my chin, lamenting another day of isolation and pain while I LONGED for spring. You know the sweet, gentle breeze of spring with yellow tulips and the Easter bunny, that  kind of spring. Butterflies flitting in the air while the strains of Mozart floated in across the garden of splendor and grace.  The spring of my imagination. The longing of my soul.
Reality and memory seem to clash in my "New normal" life. These days are not one of gentleness, nor are they what I would call peaceful or beautiful. They are in fact as rugged and raw as my emotions have been. Through the deaths of two family members, two dear friends and the loss of pets and home. In the process of losing those I love I also lost my health. I remember past springs of gardening under the grace of the sheer pleasure in the land around me. The flowers and grasses and tree's that we had so lovingly planted, the walkway to my beloved trolley which housed guests in bathrobes, sipping organic coffee and eating quiche made from the eggs of our happy hens, while Mozart did indeed float across the garden light. Now I look across a wide expanse of weeds and brown prairie with the winds throwing and stirring every single living being around. No garden, just tumbleweeds and rocks. I fell banished from life. Lonely and oddly forsaken.

Those are the thoughts of a mind allowed to run rampant. Without restraint, it will wallow and moan it's gloomy losses and glorify the past.

Then I know that I have been given a golden opportunity to practice what I preach and have preached for over 35 years to anyone who will listen. That joy and sorrow can walk hand in hand. That GOD is a mysterious love, one of divine and deep waters that carry me and if I resist too much, threatens to drown me in the magnitude and force of the rushing waves. Learning to walk on water. Walking on water for me is a mind set. A place of choosing to see the miracle of life around me instead of the obvious pain that is shouting "Look over here! This hurts like hell! When will it ever get better?" Doom, sadness, anger are as obvious as the brown landscape and windy cold. What is harder to sense but still just as real is the miracle of life. MY LIFE. The one that has survived the onslaughts of hell and come out walking and talking. The one that keeps getting beaten as hard as life can beat and rises again with words of glory for a GOD who giveth and a GOD who taketh away. Blessed be the Lord. I am a walking, talking miracle of Gods purpose and Gods grace. No power in hell can take that from me and believe me, they have tried.
So today, in the "reality" of this day I have a choice, to dwell in the cold, windy, barren land or raise my eyes up to the horizon and look for the joy in the midst of the sorrow, look for the tiny sprig of green that is straining to climb from dirt and mud to reach the sun. I can chose to know what a miracle my life is and think on those things. Chose to see what is remaining instead of what is lost. To remember clearly that we are a miracle. A living, breathing miracle. Cells without number. Created with love and just waiting to move onward and upward. Spring or no spring outside we can chose to be the spring inside. To bring warmth and light, joy and song, hope and gratitude.
To thank our maker for the days on earth. To believe in our destiny and our purpose. To dwell in the spirit that carries us and to look outside of our circumstances for that which is in need of us.
To recognize Jesus in every face we meet.