Category: miracles

Ring Gone Rogue

Last month, Kody Byers travelled to Kansas for work on a Monday and returned on a Thursday. I left for Kentucky that day. He flew in. I flew out. Separate airports. We missed each other.

On Sunday, he drove north to Dallas for work. On Monday, I returned and left again for North Carolina on Thursday. Kody returned home near the time I boarded the plane. We missed each other again.

After a two-week separation, Kody awaited my arrival with open arms. It was close to midnight on Sunday after a layover in Dallas and then a grounded flight. In the kitchen, there was a box of pizza on the countertop, an open bottle of Pinot Noir, and a small gift bag on the island. “I missed you,” he said. “I got you a gift.” I couldn’t quite read his expression.

Inside the bag was a small jewelry box. Inside the box, a sapphire ring. “Is this my ring?” I said, studying his face. Of course, it was my ring. This was not just any ring. I’m not sure what my face conveyed, but I was flat-out flummoxed.

My engagement ring went missing in 2019. In the fall before I started my MFA program, I spent some time in the air and on the road, time away with my husband, time with friends, time with family, time in an Airbnb, time in a handful of hotels. I lost my ring during that time. I dumped out every purse, bag, and suitcase—and searched high and low. Sickened by my own carelessness, I finally gave up the hunt and reconciled myself to the fact that my sapphire from Kuşadası was forever gone. (Click here for the engagement story.)

“I just felt like it was calling out to me,” Kody said with a touch of sarcasm, “and that it was here, so I started looking everywhere. I looked in the car, under the stove, in closets and drawers and cabinets. I cleaned out and organized and looked for days. I ended up in the garage going through boxes. And when I walked back into the kitchen, I reached up here—” He reached his hand up to the top open shelf to show me, above eye level and over his head. “And here it was, in the corner. I wasn’t really looking. I just reached up.” He seemed stunned, too.

Reenactment of Ring Gone Rogue

I can barely remember what I did two weeks ago, much less four years ago. Did I stick it there? Did he? It’s such a mystery.

Or…

Perhaps …

A miracle.

I believe in miracles. Just reach up.

A Powerful Visualization

Aurora Borealis

It was 1:30 in the morning. With eyes wide open, I had a dreadful sense of foreboding stuck in my chest, right in my heart.

I searched YouTube for binaural beats and found one called “Get Rid of All Bad Energy, Tibetan Healing Sounds, Reduce Stress and Anxiety, Meditation.” I clicked the link.

“Get Rid of All Bad Energy, Tibetan Healing Sounds, Reduce Stress and Anxiety, Meditation.”

While listening, eyes shut, I visualized a light streaming from the sky, a direct link to God. I breathed in and out, a meditation of love and kindness, healing and miracles. I traced my thigh with my fingertips, down to my left knee and held on, breathing healing into existence. Somehow my own touch soothed. I traced my left arm in the same way around to my left breast, the one with a cancerous tumor. I hadn’t intended to examine myself, but I discovered what had been a hardening of tissue post-radiation was now soft to the touch. I held on, inhaling.

In my mind’s eye, I breathed in the light, and on the exhale that same light wrapped me up like a cocoon of love, kindness, healing, and miracles. The energy surrounding my body glowed in transforming colors, reminiscent of the Aurora Borealis. From green to blue, purple to pink to white. I drew my own conclusions. Green for growth, blue for hope, purple for power, pink for feminine strength, white for the purest of love. And for this experience, I am grateful.

💚💙💜💖🤍

Bleh vs. What If?

Bleh, bleh, bleh, bleh,
bleh,
bleh,
bleh.

Bleh and bleh,
worry and fear,
sad and mad,
shame and guilt
and regret.

And yet—

What if?
I have the power
to rewrite my story.

What if?
My words and thoughts
have creative power
to transform.

What if?
I think on noble things:
health, wealth, and love,
faith and gratitude,
peace and hope
and joy.

What if I believe?
Life is good and generous,
and miracles are in motion
beyond my wildest dreams.

What if I say?
Thank you, thank you, thank you.

My Beautiful Miracle Baby

Once a child bride, I married a man child. During the first year or so of holy matrimony, we partied like it was 1999. But it was 1989. Then suddenly, we had a toddler. Somebody had to grow up. With the help of my mother, I packed my things, loaded Drew into his car seat, and left the Rocky Mountains and my husband in my rearview mirror.

During the 700-mile, cross-country trek from Denver to Tulsa, I prayed to God. I wanted to do the right thing, and I said, “Send me a sign. Amen.”

In the weeks that followed, I found an apartment and a church. I enrolled in community college and started summer classes. Meanwhile, Kody called. He missed me and Drew. He asked if he could visit.

I said, “Yes.”

All it took was one visit, watching Bambi as a family, a failed spermicidal sponge, and I had my sign. I called Kody long distance when I missed my period. “I’m pregnant,” I said.

From there, we committed to a new beginning. Kody moved in and found a job. Together we enrolled in eighteen hours each that fall. In December, we moved back to Norman to continue school at the university. By then I was almost seven months pregnant. I had just turned twenty-two.

I suppose I lifted one box too many. Mother’s guilt.

I was taking a bath one day in our new home. 134 1/2 S. Reed. A bungalow with a dirt driveway on the half acre behind another bungalow. As I toweled off, water continued to drip down the insides of my thighs.

My water. Broken. Seven-and-a-half weeks early. At the hospital, I learned my baby was breach. They transported me by ambulance to the university hospital in Oklahoma City with the neo-natal unit. The surgeon performing the emergency C-section was Dr. Payne.

And that’s how Lauren Elizabeth entered the world. January 11, 1992, at 12:22 am, 4 lbs. 11 ½ oz. Too little to cry. It’s not a pretty story, but she was a gorgeous tiny bundle of love despite the tubes in her nose. She had ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes. And she fought for life from her first breath. She was destined to be just fine and come home just one week later.  

And today my beautiful miracle baby celebrates 30 years and other miracles along the way, God’s presence and new beginnings of her own. Destined for her best decade yet.