Miracle

I stood back and watched my miracle boy as he crossed the creek in front of me. We'd picked a shallow spot , but it was still too wide to jump all the way across. He stepped quickly and confidently over slippery rocks, without even looking down or getting his boots wet. Then he was off, scrambling up the other bank after his brother and sister, leaving me to slosh across with much less grace.

My mind wandered back to those confusing days after he came home to us from Korea as a toddler. The doctors did tests to find out why the muscle tone was so poor in his neck and upper body. The MRI explained the muscle weakness, but it also discovered some surprising brain abnormalities. Big ones. With sad faces they gave us the grim prognosis:

He will likely never walk. He will have terrible balance. He may never speak. His intelligence will be very low. He will be autistic.

But praise be to the Lord God, they were wrong. Really, really wrong. And there is no medical explanation for it.

Our 5 year old dynamo talks so much we wish he came with a mute button. He can jump off the couch, onto the mini tramp, then onto the floor where he sticks the landing like an Olympic gymnast. He taught himself to read at age 2, and now he is so far ahead in math and reading and geography skills that I just stopped keeping track. He is joyful and loving. He laughs and jokes and tickles and snuggles and writes funny notes and digs in the sand. He is a normal five-year-old, and then some.

Our very own miracle.