another miracle

    So, I did a little redecorating--what do you think?  I felt like it was time for a change...

    Here is something you probably don't know about me: I love to paint.  At least, I loved painting my house.  I love the idea of straight lines and the paint staying within the perimeter of those lines; of something bland being made interesting by a vibrant color; of taking my time and making it perfect; of buying the tiniest brush I could find at Shinn's, the paint store, so that I could get the corners just right; of the smell of paint; of wearing my huge, painted-all-over overalls; of making so many trips to Shinn's that I started to feel like Norm when he walked into Cheers and everybody knew his name; to discovering that Benjamin Moore is the absolute best paint there is and feeling like a bit of a paint snob because I secretly feel sorry for someone when I discover that they are painting and did not use Benjamin Moore...

   Anyway, I figured since I can't really paint my writing space--it being virtual, and all--I could just change things around and get the same result that a good paint job does.   

   But, that's not actually what I was going to write about tonight.  

    Do you believe in miracles?  In inexplicable promptings, that once you obey, you are absolutely grateful that you did?  There are moments when I simply cannot deny the presence of a higher power in my life, leading me, showing me a better way, providing wondrous phenomena that bring alternatives to certain sadness. 

   Or embarrassment.  Which would have surely happened tonight, had I not listened to this prompting.  But, let me tell you what I mean.

   We were already at places, getting some last minute stretches in next to a dark stage that sat empty before a waiting audience.  I was ready, mostly.  Except, drat! I had to go to the bathroom.  Nothing too serious, probably just nerves.  Normally, I ignore this feeling, considering we are about to walk on stage.  And so that is what I did, ignored it--for a good minute.  But I did have to pee, and sometimes dancing with that...pressure...is just no fun--plus I just felt compelled to go, like something was telling me that I really needed to do this before the show started, so I ran up to the stage manager and asked her if I had time to go to the bathroom.  She said, you have three minutes--you can go if you use the one up here, on the side of the stage. Hurry! 

   With that last directive motivating me, I ran to the bathroom and got to business.  And this is when I realized how important that little trip turned out to be.  Without getting explicit, and with an attempt at sensitivity towards the male portion of my readers, I can only explain the next occurrence by telling you that in that moment I was absolutely positive that I am a). not pregnant (this is good news) and b). in need of something to, ah, keep the audience from seeing the proof, so to speak, that I am not pregnant (which was not good news).  Uh-oh, it had probably been about two minutes by now, and with one meagre minute to go, I ran back to my stage manager to tell her that the problem is now a little more serious and that I was in need of a few more minutes.  She heard the urgency in my voice and let me go.  Smart lady.  

   I tore out of there like I was running for my life and finally ended up in my dressing room, after pausing only long enough to hear a dresser ask, Do you need help?! I replied with a quick yell over my shoulder, Not to use a tampon, thanks!!! And got the job done. Without her help, thanks.  

   I ran back up to the stage manager, told her that I was back and ready, grabbed hands with Sterling and Jay, and walked on stage to start the show, now that my own little frantic pre-show had finally ended.  I couldn't help but feel overcome by gratitude; for the prompting to go to the bathroom from Someone who knew what was going on, and for the fact that I actually listened.  

   And this is just another small clue that leads me to the overwhelming evidence of miracles. Everyday.  In unexpected places.  And I'll take them, every time.