It is 12:12 AM Central Texas time, Sunday. I can't sleep, too much coffee and too much thinking. I want to share with you something that happened at the shop today. One of the pros about having a shop is the amount of nice and interesting people you get to meet. Then in between those sometimes you meet the ones you wish they will stay away. Today a couple stop by and when asked if they needed assistance the gentleman started to ask for prices in various old books collections I have. He described himself as a book and history worm. His body language was turning me off since I can tell he was used to get his way. I collect beautiful books and any kind of ephemera and I have a lot of very tattered, spine showing books which I considered for their decorative value. He was very prompt to let me know his opinion about my books. They were "ridiculously priced and in such an horrendous state" that he could not understand why I even bother with them. Well, even after complaining he proceeded to buy two of my books for 3.00 each. I tried to explain to him how mixed media artist, decorators and designers everywhere are finding beauty in the rustic, tattered, junky, rough items. I tried to explain to him about the beauty of a pile of book with no covers, only old pages with the spine showing. I tell you, looking at his face I can tell he was horrified by what I was describing. I told him I was aware of the fact that to a book collector what we do with papers this days is sacrilegious. I think that was  the only statement he fully agreed on. I thought I can do without the men business.
       Well, I take that back. I did noticed that he will take breaks sitting at every chair in the shop and that he was limping. Even though I didn't feel any kind of friendly manners coming from him I went ahead and asked him what was wrong with his leg. He was kind to share with me that he suffered from a degenerative condition and that he eventually will ended up in a wheelchair. I asked if there was any medical help he can get and he said no. Then he proceeded to laugh about it, a laugh that didn't make any sense to me. I don't know why but I felt compelled to share this with him, even when I could not get any kind of spiritual connection and though he might just put me off. Many years ago, 24, I fell from 18 feet during a training session. I was military and climbing poles was my job. I was expected to be medically discharge since I suffered a muscular-skeleton injury. The pain was the most excruciating pain, I couldn't even wear a belt or buttoned my uniform all the way. I was not supposed to be able to exercise or perform my duties as needed. I started to slowly exercise myself back to health against medical advise and surprised everybody by passing my physical test. The only thing was that I learn to live in pain, the kind that make you crawled out of bed. I learned to put my pain off and continue with life as usual. I was in a lot of medications for the pain but tossed them since they only doped me up and did nothing for the pain. Where I'm going with this? This is why I share this with him. I was not a believer then, didn't even asked God to heal me since I thought I can handle it with out Him. I was self sufficient and arrogant, didn't expect much from anybody, God included. Every morning I got used to turn and crawled out off bed, that was the routine and then the pain. One day, 2 years after getting married I woke up and just got up from bed, without crawling or rolling. I thought that was weird and didn't understand what  had just happened. I expected the pain to start, like every day, but it didn't. What did just happened? I expected to go to bed and wake up back to "normal" the next day, but I remain pain free, that was 22 years ago. This is where the gentleman comes back in the story. I did not get any kind of response from him, you know, some people don't like Jesus freaks. I added him up, packed his goods and send him off with the most tattered book he liked but will not purchased because of the condition it was. I told him to remember the crazy lady in the highway every time he saw that book. Well I thought I was done with him, but as I watched him trying to get into his car with much difficulty I felt the urge to go and knock at their window and said a last message to him.
               I wanted him and his wife to know that we are not without hope. That miracles do happen, everyday, to all people and with out any reasons. That God so chooses to  performs miracles sometimes because He is God and He can. I was not a christian, I was not praying for healing, I didn't knew God like I know Him today, I didn't even believe in miracles!. Somebody was praying for me though. I visited my mom 2 years prior to my healing and I remembered visiting her church and going with her during the altar call. I only did that to pleased her. When I told her about my healing (now I know is called that)  she told me she have been praying for me all that time. See...I offered to pray for him from today on and asked him to please come and tell me when he get his miracle. I can tell he thought I was insane, but guess what? I am, I am a Jesus freak, a God fanatic. I will be waiting, he will be back...
        GOD IS GOOD AND HE IS GOOD ALL THE TIME, NO MATTER THE CIRCUMSTANCES. Blessings to you all, Marta.