Progress-less Miracles
Story time! When I was very young (because I am retelling this story as it was told to me by my mother because I don't remember it) I used to have a lot of nightmares. Any time I was too afraid to sleep, I would wake up my mom (pretty sure she wasn't thrilled about this). She would take me back to my room, put her arms around me, sing a song to or with me, and we would talk about why I was afraid. And then, we would pray about it. And nearly every time I would go back to sleep quite quickly. But, according to her telling, there was one night when we prayed that I mentioned that I was ok because my angel had arrived to guard me. This kinda freaked her out, and even more so when I pointed to the foot of the bed behind where she sat to a place with another indentation, despite the fact that no one had sat there and my legs didn't reach that far down the bed to muss the covers. So what does an angel look like? Well, for the angel in that story, I have no recollecti