Thankful

This is an example of how I believe God intervenes.  I want to say that this was not a big intervention, but then again, it was.  Here is what happened.

I live in an older section of my area.  There are a lot of places like this because back in the day, this area was known for its mills.  It amazes me that even the 'ordinary' people owned these huge, beautiful homes.  They are close together, with small yards.  Everything is within walking distance, post office, a butcher shop, hardware store, other little small beginning shops.  It's a town in transition.  There is a brick alley that runs behind my street, so, it is behind my backyard.  My yard is fenced in.  Before we bought this house, the previous owner put in a garage.  The one side of the garage is along side the backyard. I got tired of looking at a cement block wall (it didn't go with the flowers and plants in the rest of the yard) so I decided to paint the wall.  Several years ago, I had painted it all one color and then tried to make mosaics in each of the brick outlines.  I liked it, and it was okay, but it needed a change, so this summer, I bought paint (three different colors) and decided to make a design.  I started but then it got so humid, that I stopped until this fall.  (If I knew how to put pictures on here, I'd take one to show you).  Anyway, the warm, fall weather is winding down, so last week, my daughter said she would finish the wall.  It took a day, but she finished it, all but five bricks because the paint ran out.  So, we went and got more so she could finish it last Friday (3 days ago).  She has been sober, it would be 9 days, but she bought alcohol and finished the wall. 

I came home and recognized the change in her.  She took me out to see the wall, it was beautiful, but she was talking goofy, so I encouraged her to go inside, she went in and fell asleep.

I have three dogs.  All of them were rescued.  I have a doberman-lab mix. Sophie. She is such a good dog, after having been abused so terribly.  She is gentle, and loving.  I just love her.  We got her when she was a year old, and she has never really needed a leash.  She just stays with us.  Our second dog, Nissa, is a beagle mix.  She is cute and loving.  She 'talks' a lot.   She is a food addict.  We have to make sure there is no food near the edges of tables.  She has pushed chairs aside, to jump on them and to the table to get a piece of bread. She's pretty tenacious. Though I love her, I'd never get another beagle.  They are cute, but hard to house train and they bark at everything (There is a woman in our neighborhood who I see walking three beagles.  Every time I see her, I think, 'there is a special person).   Our third dog is a miniature pincher. Dexter.  I really never thought I'd like a small dog.  He, though, doesn't give you any time to do anything else but love him.  He is all over the place.  He thinks he's a mastiff.  He's comical and sweet. He is the man of the house, with four females totally enamored with him.  He gets along with my older dog and the beagle, but he and the beagle are buddies.  They play together, hang around outside together, sleep together.  It is so cute to watch.  Again, if I knew how to post a picture. 

Sophie doesn't run out of an opened door. She will wait until you are out the door, and invite her to come with you.  Nissa and Dexter, on the other hand, will zip out invited or not.  And they will run.  When we first got Nissa, someone told me to always keep her leashed because their sense of smell is so controlling, that unleashed they will just run.  Dexter has escaped three times.  Fortunately, he needs to stop, sniff, and pee on everything so I was able to catch up to him before he ran too far.  But really, I didn't even see him bolt out of the front door.  I just happened to turn around, see him pause to look at me, bark and run. 

Here's the miracle.  On Friday, after I had looked at the painted wall, I never checked the gate. The backyard is fenced in.  It was garbage pick up and the recycle bin needed to be taken in.  My daughter apparently had thought about it, but then didn't and forgot to latch the gate.  Friday night I let the dogs out without walking out with them. They came in.  Saturday morning, I did the same thing.  Saturday afternoon, I went out to rake leaves, and went down to get the recycle bin, and (with the dogs out there with me), saw that the gate was standing open about five inches.  All three dogs were in the yard, in fact, Dexter was at my heals.  My heart stopped. And I have to say, that for a few seconds, I looked at Dexter wondering if that was really him sitting there looking up at me. I was shaken.  I locked the gate, picked him up, unlocked the gate, got the bin, and then locked the gate.  I was dumbfounded and the only thing I could think of was, "Thank you God."  Because there was nothing else keeping them in the yard with an opened gate. 

Small miracle, to look at, I guess. But to me, a big one.  I would have lost them, I'm sure.  Hit by a car, taken by someone.  The way he and Nissa run, and bark at the gate if someone walks past...
So, of course I am thankful, but then my reality brain starts thinking, why a miracle here?  My spiritual brain kicks in, maybe because it is one less thing for me to worry about.  Maybe because they are so dependent on me, that since I was oblivious, God stepped in.  I don't know, I just know it happened and I'm still in awe. 

I'm not even going to say what my next thought was, because it will sound like a complaint and that I don't appreciate what happened.  And I do.  I guess I wrote to show my thanks and to admit that I don't know the way God thinks, or why things happen the way that they do, but I do want to say that I'm grateful for miracles, regardless of their size.