|At 'da club' Aaron on my right, the now Father Steve on my left|
I got up in the morning, packed last minute things, and left for the Holy Land full of anticipation, joy and nerves. I was attending the trip a little broken. Life just seemed really hard, as it does sometimes when one is 28, single, living in their parents house, and working a ministry job. My little sister was getting married, and I was so excited for her. But, I was having to have the 'Oh, is it weird to you that your little sister is getting married before you?' conversation, more often than I would have liked. I wasn't sure where my life was headed, I knew I wanted to be married, but I wasn't. I knew I needed to move out of my parent's home, but I couldn't figure out finances... I felt a little stuck.
On one of the last nights, we were eating a dinner in a hotel restaurant. A priest, not with our group, walked right up our table. He saw I was wearing a Franciscan University sweatshirt. I will never forget the conversation.
"Did you go to Franciscan?"- he said.
"I did"- I answered
"It's a great school! Are you married?"- he kind of asked this question a little out of nowhere.
"Nope" I said, used to this conversation, "Still waiting for my prince charming"
"Just so you know... prayers in the Holy Land are always answered"
He walked away. I didn't tell him my prayer was to find a spouse. It was such an odd experience, I wrote about it in my prayer journal.
|at my sister's wedding|
Prayers in the Holy Land, for me, were answered.
Guys, he drives me crazy. On Tuesday he came home late, without calling and then acted surprised I would be upset about it. There's a box on our kitchen floor I've asked him to move downstairs every day for almost a week. Marriage is hard. It's rare we have a week without some type of drama, squabble, fight or tension.
However, last night he rubbed my back till I fell asleep. He does this almost every night because sleep is so hard for me when I am pregnant. This morning, he got up with the kids, while I slept in bed. He changed their diapers, took up and down the laundry, and ran to the store to grab some last minute groceries... all before 8:30 am. As he left for work, he gave me a kiss and I said a little prayer for him, in thanksgiving.
Because 8 years ago today, I set out on a pilgrimage journey that would change my life. And now, 5 kids and a tiny house in Redford, Michigan later, I know I received a miracle.
I don't get why some prayers are answered and why some aren't. I do believe in miracles, and Aaron is the greatest miracle of my life.