Room for a Miracle

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          I awakened early Friday morning for work, and found 2 song lines tipped into my heart,

Is there room in your heart

for God to write His story?

          At my altar for early morning prayers, I was too tired to think, so as I sealed my heart in Jesus’ Heart, I told Him that my prayer of Adoration today would be the work I did this day, given as an offering for Him. It turned out to be a gentle, unremarkable day lived in the happy slowness that Friday sometimes brings. I didn’t rush nor push much. I went from sweetness to sweetness.

          Yet, by afternoon, I was deeply exhausted. With an apple cake waiting to be baked for several days now, there was no putting it off; the kids were waiting for it and what better way to celebrate the end of another work week than with a lovely cake for tea?

          I planned to begin the baking right after lunch but being so tired, I went to lie down a bit to get my energy back.

          And I had a dream. I dreamt that one of my superiors at work was in my bedroom. She had come to check on my preparations for a programme she was overseeing. She had brought along someone else and she came to make sure that person was settled in my bedroom. In the dream, she wasn’t entirely pleased with my efforts but I wasn’t in the mood to appease either. I was clearly tired, fed up and couldn’t care less as she set about impatiently making up the extra bed as it should have been done. When she finally left the room, I didn’t bother to see her out. Instead, I stood in my room, agitated about having a stranger in my private abode, wondering too how I had allowed this woman to bring her work right into my home.

          What was the dream saying to me? That if I didn’t make room for God, trespassers from work would push their way further in? But I was making room for God, I knew I was doing all I could under the circumstances. What more was God asking of me?

          Again, this strange exhaustion washed over me. Why was I so very tired today?

          It was well after dinner that night that I made the connection between the afternoon dream and my overwhelming tiredness. This brazen woman inside my home, worse, inside my bedroom, dictating who else should be given access and how the room should be prepared, showed how emotionally and physically invasive her projects have been, this year especially.

          Her insane year end project, most of all, had trespassed right into my home life and stolen my rightful rest. I had been working on it for several weeks now, giving my very best. Now, I had 2 more days left of it. One – on Sunday – which broke my heart because working with Muslims, all my life I have refused to work on a Sunday to make it clear to them how important Sunday was to me. But now, with no one else willing to give up their Sunday, I was up against the wall with no hope of a slot exchange.

          My final slot in this woman’s programme was on the last day of work for the year for me. I sign off at 1 in the afternoon on Friday the 18th but despite knowing that, my superior had gone ahead and scheduled me for an entirely needless and taxing evening programme with her.

          My thoughts returned to the afternoon dream. Why had God come to point out the obvious? What was God asking of me?

          Discussing it with my husband, I came to a decision. I had already quietly rescheduled the timing of my Sunday programme, making it an hour earlier so that I still had 2 hours of my Sunday morning afterwards for my Lord.

          Then, I made a final decision. I would cancel the final programme on Friday. By scheduling it, this woman had trespassed into my rightful rest. She had no right and I wasn’t going to allow her, come hell or high water.

          That night, I slept soundly.

          A Saviour King who had no home
Has come to heal our sorrows

Is there room in your heart
Is there room in your heart
Is there room in your heart
For God to write His story?

          I awakened to a soft moss green morning misted by rain~breaths, the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe.

Am I not here, I who am your Mother?

          The moment I recalled Mother Mary’s words to St. Juan Diego worrying over his ill uncle, a little thought bud to life.

A Saviour King who had no home
Has come to heal our sorrows

Is there room in your heart
For God to write His story?

          What if the lines in the song weren’t meant to be a chiding? What if it wasn’t about what I hadn’t done and still needed to do?

What if it was an announcement?

          Had my angel sung those lines by the lip of my ear to announce a coming miracle?

          A miracle beyond compare, so huge and magnificent that it would stretch the room of my heart to its limits to contain it.

                 

11 comments

  1. Caitlynne Grace,
    Oh, how I have prayed with you for blessed relief from the oppression of your heart. Please Lord, take this gentle woman, your Daughter, to your breast…hold her close to your Sacred Heart and allow the arrows that pierce her heart pierce yours as well.

    God’s Child

    Liked by 2 people

    1. It’s Sunday here, Ann, and I’m just back from the morning programme. I worked hard and I’m satisfied but nothing beats the happy skips in my heart that today’s the last of it. I’m not at all tired but energised and so ready for the rest of Sunday morn!

      Liked by 1 person

    1. The difference just one decision made in my mood is amazing, Murisopsis. And you’re spot on in your Advent hope for me: I feel as if there’s so much to rest in and to enjoy now that I’ve closed the gates.

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  2. I am glad that you have ‘closed the gates’. We do need boundaries; it is only fair for our peace of mind. Peace is a precious thing. It is something we need desperately and it is the one thing Jesus offers to us daily. John 14: 27: “My peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your heart be troubled and do not be afraid.” Like a summer breeze in the midst of winter, may springtime fill your heart this Christmas; may there be a garden of hope that springs up for you…butterflies of love that cross your path wherever you go. Cling to the roses that bloom in the garden of life; cling to the eternal rose, our Jesus, and know that your name is written there on the wall of the garden in heaven. No miracle is too great for our God.

    Liked by 1 person

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