It was a miracle...

I have been feeling pretty well overall for the last little while. Great even. More days than not I have been feeling like myself. Then the day went from okay to down right hopeless in a matter of minutes.

The week had been long - my sweet husband was working extra hours at work for their convention. I often say that I am a great married mom, I am not a great single mom. Spending a chunk of the week knowing my husband wasn't going to be around was draining on me physically and mentally. My two oldest had been fighting and picking on each other all day. My five year old was complaining about everything - I mean everything. I was done. I was spent. I yelled at my five year old daughter. Even though we later apologized I couldn't get my attitude back up. I kept crying. I felt lost. I wanted to run away. Sure I have had those feelings before. I want to run to visit my friend or sit out in a quiet spot and pretend I don't have any responsibilities. This time was different. This time those feelings weren't going away.

My go to person is Angela. She knows what PPD and motherhood feels like. She never judges - she is the perfect friend. There was only one problem - she lives in Ohio while I live in Utah so picking me up off the floor physically isn't an option. I did the one thing I knew I could do. I called her. I called her a sobbing mess. I felt like I needed to go somewhere - maybe the hospital - somewhere. She talked to me and talked with me but I couldn't seem to catch my breath. Upon her advice I hung up with her and got into a hot shower to try and relax.

I was crying so hard I couldn't barely utter the words, "Father, I am here. Are you there? I need you." I wanted, I needed Him. I needed Him to make the pain go away. Finally I crawled out of the shower. I grabbed my now fussing baby and climbed into bed for a cuddle. I knew I needed someone physically to be there. I texted a few of my friends. My friend Susan responded that she wasn't feeling well but "what's up". I was not about to impose. "Oh nothing," I lied. Within seconds she responded that she was coming over. She found me curled up in my bed and I lost it yet again. She held me, she didn't judge me. She then took the baby and rounded up some teenagers who did dishes, laundry and generally picked up the main floor.

Angela texted back to check in. I told her about Susan reading between the lines in my text and just coming over. "Guess Heavenly Father really was listening." I texted Angela. "To both of us." was her reply. I felt a wash of emotion and love. My best friend had been praying for me. I know she has done it before but right then it was crucial. The best part was knowing that God had heard me and sent exactly who I needed.

Some might say this is simply coincidence. I don't believe that. I believe it was a miracle. I believe in a God that is good. I believe that I am His little girl and my struggles matter to Him. I believe in miracles.

Why do we doubt our strength?

A few weeks ago I had a sweet friend text me...
"Heather, you are incredible! I admire how open you are. It is inspiring. Than you for being your wonderful self!! Love ya friend!!"

I don't share this to brag or say, "Hey look at how amazing I am." I am constantly thinking of things I want to share here and worry about what other people will think. Why would anyone care about my story...then I receive messages and find new courage.

Why do we doubt what we have to share with the world? It makes me crazy when my friends can't see their stellarness (yes I just made that up) when I can. Well if I look, really look at myself, I am really no different.

Here's to being courageous and to seeing the strength in ourselves.