Three Doors Down

Within the hour, I will add my presence to the celebration as my neighbors bring their little giant, Baby Bronson, home. The family will drive up the balloon- and friend-lined street as white handkerchiefs delicately flutter in the breeze to welcome him home. The family will see a portion of the excitement and gratitude so many feel for their miracle. The family will no doubt, feel humbled and complete when just three doors down from my own, they find themselves reunited in their own home after riding an emotional roller coaster for the past thirteen days.

I can only wonder what this first day, this first week will be like behind the closed doors of that house at the top of our cul-de-sac. How will they live day to day life now that a miracle has been manifest in their lives? How is this family changed now? How will they express the gratitude they feel for an answer to heartfelt pleadings and prayers...an answer that was yes? What is going to be different in their lives that wasn't there before, because certainly they are changed. I'm just trying to imagine how my life might look and feel if this were me and not them.

Because there's nothing that says I get a free ride.

Life is full of contrasts and we never know which side of the fence we'll find ourselves on.

The Staker's have been open with their experience and blessed with an outpouring of support, which included faith and prayers from thousands who don't even know them.

Yet others are left to suffer in silence, feeling alone.

The Staker's received their answer. It was yes. He was made whole. It was a miracle.

Yet some are told no to miraculous healings and blessings and are left only to try to make sense of broken pieces.

The Staker's wounds are healing. They are being closed. Someday, maybe, they'll only see a scar.

Yet while one person's wounds heal, another's are blatantly exposed.

Today there will be a celebration as my neighbors, three doors down, bring home a healed and thriving little boy and life picks up and starts over.

Yet today my family mourns the loss of my cousin whose life came to an end yesterday while skiing.

Sometimes the answer gets to be yes.

Sometimes it has to be no.

Sometimes we're blessed enough to be physically surrounded by people we love and care about.

Yet sometimes we have to be okay with memories and pray for spiritual comforts.

Sometimes families get to be reunited in their own home on this earth.

Sometimes families are broken apart for a time and have to wait to be reunited until some other time, some other place.

Any experience, painful or happy, joyful or sad, can be faith building. Sometimes we can be made stronger regardless of the side of the fence we find ourselves on. Either side can humble us. Either side can make us feel grateful.

Neighbors and friends are congregating outside as I type this.

I'm going to join them and celebrate the miracle of a second chance.

Then maybe I'll come back inside and shed a few tears for a loss.