Magic or Miracle?
Lil' C was all excited tonight after finding his blankie that had been lost for a few days. He came running into the hall to tell us about it.
"Oh, you found your blankie. That's great!"
"No, I didn't find it, but do you know who did?"
"God found it! He whispered to me, 'I found it.' It's magic!"
I have to say that I was quite surprised this was coming from my four-year-old hellion. But, if he was initiating faith in God on his own, who was I to disagree? So I ooed and ahhed and said how wonderful it was. I tried to get Hubby into the act as well.
"Isn't that great?" I said, "Tell him how God can do anything."
"Yeah, right," he replied sarcastically under his breath.
I was a bit taken aback by his response, but then a thought occurred: does he, like me, not really believe that?
Was he thinking about how, when Joey was sick, people would write in our Caring Bridge guestbook that they were sure God would perform a miracle and cure Joey? And how every time we read those comments we would roll our eyes and feel more helpless and sad? Helpless and sad because we knew what they didn't: that some of the best neurosurgeons and oncologists in the country had given us no hope for a cure.
So instead of praying for a miracle, we prayed for the strength to say good-bye when the time came.
But Lil' C doesn't know that. In his sweet, innocent four-year-old mind, magic did happen and brought back something he loved. He doesn't know that given how the blanket appeared folded neatly over his bed rail that it was likely the cleaning woman, not God, who found his blankie tucked among the bed sheets.
I'm not going to be the one to tell him, though.
Because sometimes I wish I still believed that I could get back something I loved whether by magic...or maybe a miracle.