On Angels and Miracles

I have to admit, some days I just don't feel very strong. As a friend recently remarked, "If I had your life - I'd have commited suicide long ago." Well isn't that a cheery note?
She just doesn't understand what keeps me going. The fact that she's an Athiest really bogs down her understanding of what keeps me going on. I've always allowed folks their own beliefs (or lack of) , I don't argue whether God exists or doesn't. She poo-poos the idea of a higher force, and the Bible is just a pack of fairy tales, meant to scare folks into behaving. It really makes her mad that I won't argue the point. I tell her it's ok that she doesn't believe in Him, He believes in Her, and when she's ready, He'll be there to greet her. This is usually met with rolling eyes.
Yet still she asks how, having survived the things I have, and going through things I must , do I keep hope alive. I tell her," Most days, I just live on Faith - only you spell it hope." Because I am a believer, it's hard for me to grasp someones non-belief. It is equally hard for them to grasp my faith, I guess.
For myself, Faith and Hope go hand in hand, but I don't think they over-ride hard work and determination. Miracles are alot like beauty, they are in the eye of the beholder. Sometimes, miracles are small things - not at all dramatic. Because they are so gentle, they go overlooked, except to those willing to accept them for what they truely are. Even aid from someone, that act of kindness- IS a miracle my friend. Perhaps, that has been the hardest lesson of all for me, learning to allow others to help. I've always been the go-to person. The one who knew who, what, where, and could percure whatever was needed. I was never- shelfish with this 'gift'. Then Life decided to beat me. I've been in harsh places before, but never under such a wave of negativity. In one year alone, I lost my beloved son, a good job, and our home of 17 years. I was broken and spent - but not defeated. Sometimes, my 'miracle' was just the ear of someone, whom did not judge as I struggled to accept my son's death. The ones who didn't care if I needed to talk it out for months after. They waited and listened. Sometimes the miracle came in the form of applications handed me, or a call from someone who saw a help wanted sign. Now, I was the one in need...and believe it or not, mired inside the problems, I could not find my way. The 'answer girl', had no answers for herself. At first, I shunned offers of help - the sin of 'pride', although sometimes we say pride when what we truely mean is stupidity. It's been 5 long years, and I am still struggling my way upwards from that rabbit hole into which I fell. In many ways, I felt I deserved the bowels of hell, I had condemned myself too. But, then the 'angels' came. Mortal men, women, and sometimes even children, each holding out their hand, saying ,'it's ok- lean on me. Just one step at a time." Even now, the kindness I recieved, brings tears to my eyes, and thank you will never be enough. Every single moment forever etched upon my heart. Every single one a miracle. From the dandilion bouquet brought to me by a small child by the river one day, whose only remark was "Don't be sad , Lady" to the large monetary gift sent to me one cold winter as I faced eviction.
Yes, I believe in angels, and miracles.
If you open your eyes and heart, you'll see them too.