See how much I love you? 31 Days of Miracles, Day 7

Day 7, By Debbie Barrow Michael

"Mom," the quivering agony in my daughter's voice on the phone threatened me with panic.

"What is it Kellie," I asked too fast, unable to not imagine the worst.

"I've lost my ring."

I closed my eyes and breathed, relieved that the problem wasn't worse. "Kellie, it's a ring. Don't worry," I tried to console her. But I was heart sick. It was Kellie's engagement ring. The wedding was three weeks away. The diamond ring was a antique, and the wedding band had been custom-made to match the vintage filigree and curve of the now lost ring.

It was March 31, 2006, and Kellie and her fiancée, Mike, were driving ten hours from Pittsburgh, PA, where they attended college, to Mike's home in Wisconsin, where his mother was hosting their bridal shower.

Kellie's spirits lifted as we talked. Then she sounded strangely calm, assuring me, "I'm sure if we all pray, we'll find it."

I winced at her childish idealism. A tiny ring lay somewhere along a several hundred mile stretch of highway. Kellie remembered admiring the ring shortly after they left Pittsburgh. She notice it was gone sometime in Indiana, two states away. They had been in and out of the car several times during that time.

Her final semester and wedding planning had caused weight loss, even in her fingers. She thought she might have lost it after washing and drying her hands in one of several rest stops along the Pennsylvania/Ohio/Indiana Turnpikes. I cringed as I imagined my anxious daughter unwadding paper towels from trash cans and searching dark sidewalks, looking for the proverbial "needled in a haystack." Their exhaustive search made them arrive in Wisconsin at 4:30 a.m. instead of midnight, as anticipated.

My heart dropped as I calculated the slim possibility of finding the ring she had so delighted in receiving nine months earlier. I went into "Mother" gear, trying to encourage, and give helpful advice, like submitting a report of loss to state Turnpike authorities. I emailed prayer requests to friends, including Mother who was the best of the best.

My prayer that night and throughout the weekend was, "Lord, Kellie has so much faith in You and the power of prayer.  We don't know where her ring is, but You do. It can be in the trash can, or in a parking lot, or in grass somewhere.  It doesn't matter where it is now.  We know that You are capable of doing anything.  Please get it to a place where she can find it.  And if someone finds it, let them feel convicted to find the owner." All the time I prayed, I also added, "And Lord, help my unbelief."

Although they had no good news on Saturday, Kellie and Mike were still optimistic, trusting their prayers weren't falling on a deaf God. But I had moved beyond prayer into "fixer" mode, contacting the jeweler with a ridiculous question about having another ring made to match the band they had just fashioned, and even searching the internet for a look-a-like.

On their return trip to Pittsburgh on Sunday, Kellie continued to sound calm and peaceful, the opposite of what I was expecting and personally experiencing.  She said a peace had come over them  about the ring. I was grateful for their peace, and reminded myself it was just a ring, no matter how special. 

Back at school Tuesday afternoon, Kellie called me, giddy with laughter. Returning from work, she noticed the ring was on her bed! Her squeals brought her rooommates running, and they joined in the delighted squeals. Kellie's voice was still shaky from the shocking discovery. 

I quickly called my mother. Her odd question surprised me, "What color is Kellie's bedspread?"  She said she kept getting an image of the ring on a blue square.

I quickly redialed Kellie, disappointed that her answer was green. I share her grandmother's 
vision of blue, but didn't mention the square. Kellie's answer shocked me again, "My quilt under my bedspread has blue squared on it." 

Kellie's ring on the actual quilt where it was found.

"Was your bed made when you found the ring?" I asked. (I don't know why I had visualiszed a sparkling ring prominently displayed in the middle of a perfectly made bed, as Angels sang.)

"No," she answered.

So there was a blue square, and a ring, returned from only-God-knows-where, because of a childlike faith in the power of prayer. And a vision from a beloved grandmother to add to the miracle. 

"See how much I love you?" was the unmistakable message we received, all because a young couple believed Jesus when He said in Matthew 21:22, "If you believe, you will receive what you ask in prayer."

Today, Kellie and Mike have been married ten years and have five children, all of whom love the Lord. 

Kellie and Mike at their wedding in 2006

Kellie, Mike, and their five children on a recent trip to Ireland

Thanks be to God, the Author of our miracles. 

Debbie Barrow Michael lives in Mount Airy, Maryland, in the United States. She is an artist and writer. Her book, But the Greatest of These is Love, chronicles her unexpected journey with God into adoption. Her blog, Consider it All Joy, at debbiebarrowmichael.blogspot.com is filled with God Stories, even during a tragic period in her life. Her greatest desire is to know God better, and make Him "visible" to others.

Amazon downloads of But the Greatest of These is Love are reduced to $2.99 for the month of October to celebrate our Miracles blog shares on Write 31 Days.

All book profits go to orphan care, including hosting expenses. 

Visions, One

Continued from the Agony  

Sometimes it is difficult to find human words to adequately describe visions. 

As Roma was passing through that thin veil dividing the world we inhabit from the one we are all steadily approaching, two friends contacted me about clear visions they had of Roma the night he made that journey. I've asked each of them to share, in their own words, what they saw. Below is one vision. The other one is coming. 

Two years ago, I met Cheryl Bresin through an adoption and orphan-hosting Facebook group. She got to know Roma and me better by reading But the Greatest of These is Love. We began to message and discovered she lives an hour north of me. Then we realized another member of the group, who also had just read my book, was also close. We met for lunch, and as the case when God puts people in our lives, we three have became close friends. We have met for lunch a few times now, and even gone away on a four-day retreat to discuss the ways of God, as best we can understand Him. Telling our families in September we were going to a cabin by a lake in remote West Virginia with people we met on the internet sounded so wrong.  Unless God is involved, and, in our case, it turned out to be just right. 

Here is Cheryl's vision in her words. 

I am awestruck by how many lives this little boy from the border of Russia and Georgia has touched. So many became a part of this story and have held the Michael family and Roma deeply in their hearts. Roma's giant personality made us all feel that he was a part of our everyday lives. We grieve as his bigger-than-life presence stepped over to the other side; while still leaving the memory of his wide open arms and radiant smile that remains forever etched in our thoughts.

I have read and re-read "You are Mine," from the "Family Connections" series about the miracle of finding Roma's birth family.  I read it each time with the same pause. It was as if God was putting His hand on my shoulder to make certain that I saw.

                                   Part Eight

“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;I have called you by name; you are Mine!" (Isaiah 43:1)

I was overtaken by a stillness, as I read the foreshadowing words of the last line of this post, "And now He has called Roma."

After Debbie and I texted that fateful night, I sobbed as my heart ached deeply for my dear sister and her family. I cried out with the words from Romans 8:26: the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.

In the early morning of December 7th, I was awakened by God to pray over and over again. I talked to God and Roma out loud. I was lost in time in this prayerful realm. At one point, I drifted back to sleep, then awakened by this noise that filled my room overhead. The sound resembled the beginning of a wind storm with the gentleness of a ocean breeze.The deep warm embrace was like a thick warm cloud that was all encompassing. 

It was Angels, and Roma was with them. They were going to and fro accompanied by this systematic flowing sound. In my humanness, I called out loud to Roma to be strong and voiced that he did not have to leave. The breeze forcefully whooshed a few more times, then faded, and disappeared . . . 

The veil between heaven and earth is truly so thin.

The next morning, I lit a candle to remind myself to pray every time I passed throughout the day. A candle much like the one that burned in Georgia. As it flickered, it held the sadness of loss and the gratefulness for a family that embraced their Roma with complete and immense unending love. A love that reminds us all, "But the Greatest of These is Love."

I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you." (John 14:18)

                        *            *            *            *            *            *            

Thanks to my dear Sister, Cheryl, who writes a blog of her own.  http://risenshinefarm.blogspot.com/ 
Her words and vision comfort me. Please continue to pray for us.

Cheryl references Part Eight of the Family Connections series, but you can read all eleven posts of that popular series starting at Part One.  


Continue with Goodbye Kid, Roma's brother's Taylor's words at the Celebration of Life.