I am feeling dry. Spiritually dry. My life has had a lot of ups and downs all packed into seven days. My seven month old grandson's shunt isn't operating correctly, so he underwent surgery. My sister and her hubby were in a wreck. Sounds bad doesn't it? It's not.
PraisesGod cupped my sister's truck in his hand as is hydroplaned, at fifty miles an hour, and began spinning. The spinning truck went airborne, impacted hard enough to break an axle, and finally came to rest against an earthen embankment, upright. You know God was involved because the truck didn't roll upside down, or tumble. The damages: stiff necks, cracked rib, bruised forearm, and overall stiff muscles.
My grandson was diagnosed with spina bifida during the first trimester of pregnancy. He had neurosurgery and spinal surgery when he was twenty-four hours old. Two weeks later, he was home with his momma. No complications, swift healing, and lots of examinations from a team of specialists. Every specialist has used the word "miracle" in connection with Ashton's recovery process. This surgery was no different.