God’s been hearing the cries for help from a desperately exhausted 8-month-pregnant mamma of four little ones.  Last week, too tired to move by the time dinner hour came along, my family’s nutritional intake was painfully lacking.

Dinner Menu:

Monday:free kids meals from Chic-fil-a (boy, did they lose money on THAT family night)

Tuesday: bowls of cereal all around

Wednesday: mooched off leftovers from my sister-in-law

Thurs: leftover pizza from the past Saturday’s too-tired-to-cook meal

Lord, you’ve led us to have all these children, and I desperately need the strength to keep caring for them!

God hears, and God speaks.

And instead of filling me with Samson-strength, God did some talking to His hands and feet this past weekend.  He wanted me to stay weak, so He could show Himself strong.

The Miracle Menu:

Monday: Daddy didn’t have to work (Yay!), so he took the kids to another free-kids-meal family night at Chic-fil-a, while I lay comatose on the couch.

Tuesday: One set of hands and feet made us not one, but TWO meals (a working mother of 3 kids, mind-you!)

Wednesday:  Another set of hands had texted me just minutes after finishing the previous night’s miracle meal and said she wanted to bring dinner to us this night. Huge portions were delivered, enough for another meal.

Thursday: my friend from college had several frozen meals from Schwann’s delivered to our doorstep (ordered all the way from Virginia).

Ok, did my sister-in-law put them up to this??? Is someone circulating some email or something?

Nope.

Each one of them “just felt led” to send us meals.

God hears, and God speaks.

And I’m so thankful that He has hands and feet here on earth that respond to His voice and send acts of compassion our way, when we are most needy.

So that I can know so very clearly that

God hears, and God speaks.

It makes me want to listen more,

so that I can be part of the next miracle

of showing someone else that

God hears, and God speaks.