Little Miracles

Today, I did something I've done once before. I climbed a hill. A big hill. 200m of path to the summit. Did you think it was a metaphor? Nope. I really climbed a hill. Mill Hill, it's called. Pop likes to hike, so I took him there this morning, and he more or less ran up the hill while I hiked and panted my way up. Down was harder still. Doesn't seem like it should be hard to walk down the mountain, but it sure was. My shins hurt. Okay, my everything hurts, but my shins are really barking at me.

There's something about doing something that is difficult, accomplishing a challenge that is truly awesome. I mean, sure, this is not news, right? But whatever, my blog, my story. Less than 10 years ago, I was disabled. I was in chronic, intractable pain. I crawled up the stairs in my own home. I had canes. I took Percocet. I smoked pot to keep the percocet down. I was a mess. I had no hope. Or very little, I guess, because I still tried things to get better. Never dreamed I'd be truly well again though.

God flicked my ears. Some people call it the universe giving them signs, I call it ear flicks. Some weirdo stopped me in a health food store to tell me I was going to die if I didn't stop eating gluten. I hadn't heard of gluten except in passing. And then over the course of the next few weeks, a zillion people mentioned gluten to me. I said, "Okay GOD! I get it! No more gluten!" and once I finally got it right (and it wasn't quite that simple), I got better. Healthy. Strong. And now I'm climbing mountains. Okay, hills. With footpaths. But to me, it's a mountain. Because 10 years ago, I couldn't walk across campus at UVic. I had a disability parking permit, and drove from family housing to the my building. Literally a 5 minute walk. And now I climb for an hour. It's a miracle.

It is. It is my miracle. One of them anyway. I've been blessed with a few of them. And so, today, when I got to the summit and the sun came out and shone on us, and through the clouds with amazing rays that lit up the water just like I like it, I saw God in it.

I told Pop that I saw God. He said, "Uh huh" in his well duh voice, that only a 3 year old can do without being obnoxious. It's pretty cool how what was amazing and thrilling to me was old hat to him. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?