In my never ending love for garden analogies, I see the little tiny roots taking shape – finding water and hope in ways we don’t see.

Thursday was a good day. An unusually good day.

I think it was Katie McGrady who said earlier that her “Lent was very Lent-y” this year.

I nodded my head and wondered how I could share without complaining and bemoaning that life I’ve ended up in a valley the past few months.

My aunt passed away at Thanksgiving. I had seen her the day before. We had played “Go Fish” with my youngest children and she had made a huge, decadent table of desserts. It took our breath away. As we waited for her funeral, it felt like we were holding our breath until we could truly say goodbye.

This was followed by a dead battery in the church parking lot in the pouring rain on Christmas Eve, a blown transmission the week of Valentines Day, an epic trip-and-fall adventure by yours truly into the back of a closet, 2 weeks of the mysterious “you tested negative for everything” sickness, and finally (I hope!) a cracked tooth all the way to the root – cue incredible thankfulness for dental insurance.

I needed a good day. I did.

Thursday morning, Riley woke up cheerful and joyful and ready to tackle the day. We bounced back and forth from reviewing the butterfly method of dividing fractions to questions about his Gotcha Day. Many, many years ago, he asked us to stop celebrating his gotcha day.

I looked up the date to be sure I was telling correctly. We talked about who was there and what the day was like.

We spent the morning looking at pictures and talking about September 4th. It was so good just to hear his quiet thoughts and memories about the day.

(Pictures below from September 4th, 2014)

He wandered off to do his reading, and I opened facebook to thank people for praying and not to stop. It may take weeks, or months, or years, but your prayers make a difference. And right there – in my messages – was a message from a college friend that said “Good morning, Kate. Today is the day I’m praying for you and Riley.” I had forgotten that he had offered his 40 days in Lent to pray for someone each day. Weeks ago, I sent him Riley’s name.

He didn’t know that I needed a good day. He didn’t know that my Lent has been very Lent-y. He didn’t know that I plead with our Lord every day for a miracle to happen and for Riley to be healed and find peace.

But all of that didn’t matter. He promised to pray, and he did.

And it made all the difference in the world.