Hope Jar

The jar sits in the kitchen window sill. A reminder. Each scrap of paper represents gratitude for an answered prayer. For mercy. For grace. For months, in defiance, no papers have been added to the pile. It felt like there were no answers for me for such a long stretch and I was ticked. So no papers. Not even for the little things.

Finally, this week, after months of praying, I added three all at once. One because my mom finally had the edge taken off of the horrendous headaches she's had for over a year, one for Aim-a laim-a-ding-dong, who scored a second job interview and may well land a position that will take her away from her current dreaded spot, and one for Ellis.

The doctor who thought he might not survive said that the hole in his stomach is getting smaller. He's finally getting more sleep, which in turn helps his body to repair itself more effectively. The lungs are clearing. The breathing tube came out for an hour the other day. A much better picture than on Sunday, when hope seemed like an abandoned house - dirty, faded, windows broken.

Thankful....oh, so thankful.