answered prayer

Soccer season has started. It is our first foray into the world of organized sports. Yesterday, I sat watching across a busy practice field; watching my boy practice with his first team, first sport, first time. They were standing in a circle, each boy with a ball in front of him. The coach had them put their toe on the top of the ball and stand with the other foot on the ground. Then, jumping, they would switch feet, back and forth, quicker and quicker. I'm sure this exercise has a name, but I certainly don't know it. What I do know is that as I sat there, with tears filling up my eyes and blurring my vision, I was grateful for answered prayers; for the life and capabilities of a boy who wasn't supposed to be 'normal' or 'able' or even here. His little body, running and kicking and laughing, is my miracle. And, I'm grateful for the chance to witness the hand of the Lord every day.