Have you ever experienced a miracle? If so, you know how exciting it can be. In fact, it's often hard to not mention it to the first person who comes your way only to have it poo-pooed as a coincidence or just plain luck. I've witnessed a number of miracles and I wouldn't refer to them as anything but miracles, but I guess that's an individual thing.

The three I've recently witnessed had to do with two friends of mine and one of my own. The miracle that pertained to my situation had to do with a very good "friend" of mine - my cat Cookie. She was given to me as a kitten by my youngest son with the promise that if she didn't work out after two weeks I could return her. He had brought her by my place of work (the boss was out that day) and my supervisor who was my friend noted how intelligent Cookie was; definitely a keeper. I told her I needed to take her home right away and then I'd be back at work, and she said I could.

Cookie and I have had many good years together. In fact, we even traveled by plane from the midwest to Washington state. I had gotten some "tranquilizers" from the vet with the admonition that I shouldn't give her too much of a dose. The problem was with getting her to swallow a half tablet dose. Eventually she did and I put her in her soft-sided carrier right away along with what I call a bed buddy - a sock filled with dry rice and nuked till nice and warm; I put that along the length of the carrier. During the flight she slept peacefully in front of me under the passenger seat ahead of me. Upon exiting the plane, the flight attendant asked me if my cat and I enjoyed the flight. I said I supposed so, if my cat was even alive (she'd been so quiet). The flight attendant assured me that she was. I digress; this story is not about cats flying.

The miracle had to do with Cookie getting sick last fall. She's about 12 years old, so she's no spring chicken; but neither is she that old. I watched her day by day and I figured that maybe her body was changing as she got older. She was having bouts of diarrhea as well as vomiting which was not normal for her. The red flag went up when she stopped eating altogether and, logically, stopped using her litter box. Time for the vet. He checked her out and noticed she was dehydrated, and then rehydrated her with a shot of fluid under her skin. He also did blood tests. A trip to the scale revealed that she weighed only four pounds! Previously, she had weighed ten. When the vet contacted me with the results of the blood tests he said there was nothing abnormal, but he warned me that she had to begin eating and drinking again or her heart would give out on her. He had sent me home with a toothpaste- like substance (it even came in a tube) that would supply nutrients for her. Of course she hated it and how it was administered. So what was I to do now? I tried all different types of foods, including making up my own for her. She still was terribly thin. Finally, I asked my friends to pray about it - and, of course, I did as well. I told God that something was ravaging my cat and that I was running out of ideas on how to fix things and that if He wouldn't do it, that would be the end of my Cookie. The answer to that prayer came swiftly and she began to eat her dry food voraciously. I was also giving her my version of wet food, so she ate both. She is now looking normal compared to what she had been. For awhile I just wasn't able to pet her because of her hip bones sticking up under her shabby fur; I'd make myself do it for her sake, but I was so sad to think she was so close to what looked like the end of the line for her. I knew it was God who'd answered my prayer because the change in her happened practically overnight.

The second miracle had to do with my friend's daughter (whom I'll call Maria) who had been injured at work a few years back. The pain from that incident was becoming difficult to manage so her doctor had a bright idea - prescribe more pain killers. It got to the point that she was fully hooked on drugs; she now lived for them. In the meantime, although she lived with her mother, my friend, she mostly slept; as well as stole money from her mother in order to obtain the coveted drugs from a street source. She began losing weight also which I have learned is typical. My friend, whom I'll refer to as Amy, was going through as close a thing to hell as one can imagine. Of course, she asked for prayer and I gladly obliged knowing how desperately she was fighting this life and death battle. Finally, her daughter lost custody of her own daughter. She was so doped up she seemed not to care and Amy admitted that although she didn't care for Maria's ex-husband, that it was better for her granddaughter to be with him. To make a long story short, with Amy's persistence and love, her daughter finally got the drug counseling she needed and the help to break free. But Amy and I know it was a miracle from God that turned the tide. Those prayers were not sent up in vain. Today, Amy's daughter has a job and although she lives with her mother at this point, she is set to go into her own place in the very near future. Eventually, Amy's granddaughter will have the opportunity to go back and live with her mother Maria. Amy shared with me the letter her daughter wrote her, from which is the following excerpt: I am so thankful to have my life back on track and even have a much better life than I ever imagined possible... I (also) promise that I will continue to better myself, my life and "Maria's" too. Amy told me that she planned to tell her daughter that God is the one who did it; I know it didn't hurt one bit that Amy was uniquely qualified to help accomplish getting her daughter through that.

The last of the miracles has to do with another friend, one I grew up with. She was another grandmother facing a difficult situation. Her grandson was very ill with upper respiratory issues. About eight months old, it was a cause for great concern. He had made his way through three major hospitals, each one contributing care and information about what exactly they were dealing with. All I knew was that he had breathing problems and sometimes seizures and lung collapse incidents. He'd been transported by a life flight helicopter to a children's hospital in Madison, our capital city. Lots of pictures of him (on social media) accompanied him on his journey; he always put on a brave face. That was quite an accomplishment after about six months in various hospital settings. Maybe he knew somehow that many people were praying for him; I was one of them. It gave me great joy when he was allowed to go home. I'm sure his mother was happy to have him return home as well; she'd been with him every step of the way on his journey. "Grandma", my friend, helped out by watching her daughter's other grandchildren so that "Mama" could be with her son.

So, you see, miracles are where you find them and when needed. The fact that they happen at all seems to be a witness of love between God and His creation. It's not that miracles always occur, but that they are so welcome when they do!

Image from Pixabay.