Everyday miracles

My dear Clare,
This has been a busy weekend. It is the local Jazz festival, so we went to a concert last night.
But, yesterday, as I meditated I had a strong leading to submit my research manuscript…
the one that reports a correlation between child abuse/dysfunction and food allergy…
so I sat down for 3 hours and re-read it, made a few minor changes, and sent it to the journal editor.
I am really excited…but anxious…I've been rejected every time I have submitted anything.

I spent the rest of the day talking myself into the role of an "expert"…
I asked myself why anyone would listen to me about food allergy or child abuse or the HPA axis dysfunction…I questioned my own sanity…"What was I thinking?"
But the I heard that still, small voice that said,
"You are a doctor, a social worker, a mother of food allergic kids and a survivor of abuse…who is more qualified?"…
so I shut the doubts up, calmed down, and am feeling good about the submission.

I had a friend join me at Meeting today…
she is interested in the Quaker experience.
She sat through messages about small miracles…
the kind that happen everyday…
most of us don't even notice…
it was a good Meeting.

Then I took my 90 year old friend grocery shopping, she is fighting for her independence…
she says things that make me appreciate how precious independence is…
and then I think of my boys…
fighting for theirs…
I learn so much when I spend time with this woman…
I love that she rides with me weekly now.

I don't remember standing up to all of you older kids…
that's funny though because I feel compelled to stand up to injustice now.
I do remember, when I was pre-school age, trying to save earth worms when the boys were throwing them on the driveway just to run over them with a bike…
I was teased that "worms are your babies"…
I didn't care though…
somehow I knew senseless killing was wrong from an early age.

What patchy memories I retain…
most have some sort of violence attached…
why can't I remember the good times…
like singing?
I don't remember singing on your bed.

Thanks for being here, day after day. I hope that you enjoyed your festive weekend.
Meet you here tomorrow,
Maggie