Everyday Miracles
Lora Armendariz
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Miracles Happen Everyday

God daily shows us how special we are and how much He loves us.  Join me as I write about how my life and the lives of other people who have been touched by God's grace.

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The Artist's Signature

10/2/2013

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Do you ever question His existence?  Or perhaps, simply the idea of creation?  I think, that for the people who have doubts they need only gaze upon a natural wonder to see God. 

My husband and I love scuba diving.  We got our certification over six years ago and spent days exploring the reefs off Jamaica.  So, of course, when our travels took us to Cairns in Australia we decided to dive the Great Barrier Reef.  In one day we did two dives and after we emptied our air tanks spent the rest of our time snorkeling. 

I looked at the beautiful colors, the glorious creatures great and small, and thought to myself, "God is an artist."  So many exquisite colors, textures, light, movement, and shadows collided together in a great dance of life.  The place is filled with great joy, a brilliant celebration of beauty.  What majesty is seen there!  And suddenly I didn't even care how He did it.  All the theories of big bangs and evolution became meaningless because what I saw simply miraculous.  It was like gazing upon an amazing work of art, knowing that what you saw was purely beautiful and I felt like I could see His brush strokes in the glorious colors, see His hands in the awesome textures, see His grace in each precious life. 

I thanked Him, my eyes moist with the feeling of awe filling my chest.  I thanked Him for leaving behind His signature on the Earth.  We see His work everywhere and especially in undefiled nature.  The Great Barrier Reef was completely incredible. 


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Java Joy

9/21/2013

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This morning my cup of instant coffee felt like luxury.  Yet a few days ago the exact same Nestle brew had only been a life-line to sanity, a mechanism used to cope.  This morning my little family woke in the home our new friends, ate breakfast, laughed, and marveled at that feeling...vacation. 

We left the outback and made our way up north to the beautiful city of Cairns.  We watched as the rugged wildness of the desert land transformed into exotic greenery as we drove to the coast.  Cairns is so gorgeous it almost feels unreal.  Everyone has flowering trees in their yards and even parking lots are meticulously cultivated and clean.


I've decided that indeed it is vacation time.  Even I need some time of rest.  So, for the moment, I'm putting away my novels and I'm going to forget about character development and plot progression.  I'm going to live.  I'm going to fill my heart and soul with memories of this beautiful place and the miraculous friends who invited us to share their home during our stay. 

And, I laughed at myself this morning.  I poured that cup of instant coffee, doctored it with milk and sugar, and tucked my feet underneath me, savoring each sip.  I didn't even check my e-mail or make a single click on Facebook until a few minutes ago.  I'm viewing life through the lenses of someone whose only "job" right now is to enjoy, rest, and refill.  Even helping with the dishes was joyful tonight, laughing and talking with the sweet lady who has already stole the heart of my little toddling girl. 

God is SO GOOD.  God is SO GREAT.  I have been told that God, as our Father in Heaven, truly seeks to bless us, to provide for us, to bring our lives joy. 

So thank you, God, for providing my heart, body, and soul a time of rest.  Help me to remmber to enjoy to the fullest all the wonderful things you have provided for me in my life. 


Photo by Comedy Nose

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Argentine Roses

6/12/2013

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“Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith!  And do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it. For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them. But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well."
                                                                                                    Luke 12:27-31
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                  I was going to run away.  How?  I didn’t know.  We were living in the middle of Patagonia.  Spring had finally announced itself.  The weather was fair and the land was alive.  But looking out my window I could only see the barren vastness of ground stretching before me like a dreary future.  Everything that was wrong with my life teased and taunted the dreams I’d had before I’d come to Argentina. 

                Leaving the United States and getting on a plane headed for the Southern Hemisphere I had imagined I was going to be Kathleen Turner in Romancing the Stone, taking off to South American and writing a legendary novel.  Of course, I was leaving my sister, not going to save her; and my Michael Douglas was expecting me, had already did his best to make the ranch house cozy for his little wife.   The adventure was exciting at first—new people, new language, and new places.  But then reality set in and painted the landscape gray.  I saw people maybe once week and had trouble relating to all of them.  My Spanish that I was so proud of turned out to be pretty embarrassing and made normal conversation difficult at best.  And while we’d seen some beautiful land, I felt that I’d seen it all and now was ready to go home.

                My husband was busy those days.  He had land that needed extreme TLC before it could hold livestock and he was there only in the evenings and mornings, his mind always on the fences he was going to build and the cattle he was going to buy.  I was desperate.  We didn’t even have Internet or a phone so whining to my friends and beloved family was out of the question.  Even if had been a possibility, I didn’t want them worrying.  In one word…I felt abandoned.  I didn’t even have the heart to pray about it.

                Sunday came around and I broke out my Bible and tucked the chair next to the wood stove in my lonely weekly ritual.  But I couldn’t focus on anything except the sadness and despair that filled me.  Would I ever make friends?  Could I actually write the novel that had wormed its way into my heart?  And goodness, was I EVER going to have children?  Those nasty worries had grew into terrifying fears for me.

                I heard the truck pull up and put down the Bible.  Strangely, my man was home early.  Time to plaster on a smile and pretend I was doing just swell.   He came in with a grin and said, “Hey, you want to go for a drive?”

                I wanted to yell back, no.  I don’t want to go for a drive.  I want to crawl into a corner and mope.  I want to be left alone.  But I answered instead, “Sure.”

                He then gathered up a couple jars and my kitchen shears and I was too annoyed to ask him why.  I got in the truck and he started driving down one of the dirt roads.  We came over a hill and what I saw made me gasp. 

                A glorious rose bush spread out like a massive hill next to the road.  It looked extraordinary in the rocky, stubby countryside which was so dry that there was hardly any grass.  My husband pulled over and smugly asked me if I was surprised.  I was.  I really was.  As we gathered the roses for the jars, he told me what the neighbors had said about the bush.  Apparently it had been planted about a hundred years ago at the original site for the ranch house, but when that house had been abandoned and had crumbled away to nothingness, the rosebush had thrived, alone, for over thirty years.

                And then it hit me.  Who cared for all those glorious golden blooms?  God did.  I heard again the words written in the bible almost as if Someone gently whispered them in my ears.  “Consider how the wild flowers grow…not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.  If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, …how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith!”

                I felt shamed by my lack of gratitude for God’s gentle protection of my daily life.  I felt exultant that all I needed to do was turn and ask him to care for me.  If he nurtured these roses, on this nearly deserted road, in a land that was only sparsely populated…couldn’t I trust him to care for me too?

                Hope bloomed within me and I felt a surge of peace blow the blues triumphantly away.  It was a turning point for me—a huge one in my life that I will never forget.  I hope someone somewhere sees those golden flowers and recognizes the magnificence of our Gentle Protector, our loving God. 

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Good Morning, Beautiful

4/28/2013

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                It had been hard to get out of the house that morning.  The air outside was so cold it seemed to burn when John took a deep breath.  But in the pasture waited over 200 little mother-to-be heifer cows that he had worried about all night.  They needed a good eye out over them, those heifers, because some of them would get in trouble trying to have that first calf.  With this in mind, John threw on a couple extra layers of clothes, saddled up his horse with apologies, and headed out.  The storm had blew in fast last night and drifted with the merciless wind.  But his heifers were hardy things and as he rode along he found them in groups, usually near stands of cedar trees. 

                John counted the groups as he went, noting which heifers were looking close to that due date, thankful as he went that none had decided to make last night the night to bring a calf into the world.  But, as he ended his circle in the pasture his numbers were off by one and a niggling sensation in his head told him it hadn’t been a miscount. 

                John found the mess when he came up on the little canyon down by the draw.  The snow had covered her tracks which meant she had got into trouble around about the time the storm started.  The top half of her black-haired torso stuck out of a drift, John knew she would be dead before he even got closer.  She must have been there all night.

                Something shuffled then in the drift and John watched in shock as the new mother shook off the snow and turned her body around.  She started licking off the calf lying still as ice in the drift snow.  Lord!  That little guy must be frozen through.  She probably laid there and tried to push him out all night and then he was born all trembling and wet on snow.  He would be gone now.  What a pity!  The cow, so intent on her new babe, didn’t seem to care or notice as John nudged the horse closer, his tough cowboy heart saddened by the fight the heifer had put in just to lose a calf to the merciless cold. 

                The snow around her body had melted with her body heat, was packed down around her with the struggles of labor, and was stained pink with blood from the after birth.  The heifer, oblivious to her surroundings, continued her chore with her long rough tongue licking over and over the face and body of her prodigy.

                And then he moved.  It was just a tiny blink of an eye at first, then a twitch of the little ears.  John’s heart turned over with the excitement and was off his horse in a moment, edging closer.  But this time the cow noticed, let out a bellow, and struggled to her feet.  The look she gave John made him want to laugh with joy.  She was not going to let him get a step closer and, as if the little guy was trying to show off, John watched in amazement as he also struggled up on his tiny hooves in the slippery snow.    The mother let a out a softer call now, one she made as she turned her head slightly to the calf and nudged him a little.  He found milk in moments.  John couldn’t believe what he had just watched.

                That cow had started labor as the storm blew in and gave birth to him in a snow drift.  Now both of them were standing there looking at their caretaker as if he needed to find another task to occupy his time because they didn’t require any assistance. 

“Well, good morning, beautiful.” John said with a chuckle, tipping his hat, and hopping back in the saddle.  He turned the horse around and smiled as they trotted through the snow, sparkling in the morning light.

God’s grace seemed to shout out to him from the bright sun that day and say, “Be still, and know that I am God.”

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    Lora is a Christian writer, wife, and mother who travels the world with her husband, living and working on ranches.

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