Today, I heave another memorial stone upon the altar. There are 36 now. One for each year post accident. It doesn’t matter that this sacred memorial is only in my mind. That fact doesn’t make it any less holy, for it is in my mind that the events of that day are etched. Seared really. If I wanted to forget any of what unfolded that Feb. 2nd or the years following, I could not.

The phone ringing with the news that my husband was unresponsive. The rainy ride to the hospital ER. The sight of him tied to the bed, pulling against some unseen foe. The blood. The wound. The unfamiliar man in the bed. I can call all of it up in an instant, as if it happened today. The months in the hospital are a crystal-clear blur. The years following are the same.

It was a miracle he lived. It was a miracle his legs were not severed. It was a miracle he wasn’t blind. So many undeniable miracles that day. So many.

And yet…not all. Alive but not healed. He didn’t walk out of the hospital that day, like I begged for. He didn’t sit up in his right mind and recognize anyone, like I expected. I just knew the God of the morning of miracles was going to keep them going into the afternoon…and the months, and the years ‘after.’ But my prayers were not answered. My wishes did not come true.

We have had years of the effects of living with a damaged brain. Of frustration. Of adaptation. Of being flexible to change everything…again. It has been like pushing a boulder uphill for 36 years. We are tired. We long for some sort of normal, but we never get it. Funny how miracles work…or not, isn’t it?

It’s the age-old questions coming around again. Why do some get healing and others stay sick? Why do some get the miracle of life and others die? Why do some get whole brains and others live with damaged ones? Some babies live, others do not. Some cancer is healed, others battle for years and years.

This dilemma really gives people of faith a run for their money…to explain God and how he works. We use sure words, even when we are not sure of anything. We defend him, even when he doesn’t “work” the way we say he does. And there’s the rub…isn’t it?  

When our faith ‘works’ (or doesn’t) it makes him into a puppet doing our bidding. We pray, he acts. That’s how it is supposed to go, right? We beg, he opens heaven and pours out his healing. I have certainly seen him do it for others. But, then why not me; why not us?

Am I ungrateful for the miracles he gave us? Certainly not. My husband is alive. He is a walking miracle. Would I have liked a complete healing? Certainly so. I would like for his brain to be whole. I would like for the insecurity of life to be stable.

But can we have both; miracles and non-miracles? The bigger question, can God do both…at the same time? Yes, he can. He is not a puppet. My belief in him does not guarantee smooth sailing and miracles at all times.

He is with me no matter what I believe, or what I pray, or what I expect of him. That is the real lesson of this memorial stone I am placing upon the altar today. The big miracles are evidence of his presence. But he is present even on the non-miracle days. The days when the battle feels lost. When the brain shuts down and nothing can be accomplished. When the job doesn’t pan out or when the frustration is overwhelming. When the memory refuses to give up its secrets. When the wallet/phone/keys/tools are lost…again.

We have to remind ourselves that walking around with a section of your brain that is dead, is still a miracle. It might not look like it, or feel like it, but the day to day of life is miraculous on its own. I have learned I don’t have to defend or explain God’s actions towards us. He is a mystery, which is the reason I love him so. It is okay for him to be God…and for me not to be.

I will always place stones of remembrance on this day to remind myself of all that we have been through. The miracles. And the non-miracles. Both. And. And to allow God to be God in all things, even the ones that don’t make sense.

For all those out there who didn’t get the miracle, you are still loved, so so, much. Even when nothing is sure. Especially then. And for all those who got the miracle, what a glorious thing! Embrace and receive it as the unconditional gift it is.

Either way, lay your stone on the altar.