This last weekend, I rejoiced at the long-anticipated reunion of my mom’s family – cousins from East coast to West coast joined together in a first gathering of its kind since shortly after my mom’s death.
We planned to meet at Mom’s mountain retreat where Dad still lives with my step-mom. And we prayed to God. We asked him to send his angels to guard us from the torrential rain that was forecast.
I begged for a miracle.
Although Dad’s home would not hold the sixty who RSVP’d, the beautiful mountain property upon which his home resides was still green with spring-like life and warmer than usual sunshine until just the day before. Memories of Mom, her siblings, and family outings in the distant past wrapped around each tree. Mom’s mountain retreat would provide a heavenly backdrop for the long-awaited event.
That morning, though, God sent the rains.
And still the family gathered. Not at Mom’s heavenly home, but under a large pavilion down the road. Sheltered from the rain, we jumped at the loud thunder and crackling lightning that punctuated our laughter.
I looked at each cousin – each with his own set of disappointments, losses, and heartaches – and I saw love. Love penetrated deep within each soul and connected us together, despite the distance and the years.
I had prayed for a miracle. And I had tried to believe that God would stop the rain for me. Yet the rains came anyway. I asked God about this before people were scheduled to arrive, and I heard in my heart that he HAD provided a miracle. The miracle was in the LOVE.
Despite the rain – we were reunited in LOVE.
