We open our eyes to mercies new every morning.

We open our doors to a world of created beauty.

We open our hearts to the truths in His Word.

We open gifts from God every day, gifts He pours out upon all people, free for the taking no matter who you are.

But sometimes, we open gifts that God wrapped especially for us, an unmistakable act of mercy that the Father tailored for our specific needs.

Yesterday Tarica opened a gift like this.

It’s a shame that it is a gift in the first place; it’s something no little girl should have to rejoice over. But because she is Tarica, a gift herself and well-beloved, she accepted it and acknowledged its Giver.

She had seizures on Saturday, Sunday, Monday. She had seizures on Wednesday.

But Tuesday? None.

She had a seizure-free birthday.

It was the best gift a loving Father could give.

Now. It’s your turn. Have you ever received an unmistakable act of mercy from the Father? It can be simple, unusual, common, or strange—mercy comes in all shapes and sizes. Please tell me about it. I want to rejoice with you.

I am awed, amazed, astonished, appreciative—and that’s just the A adjectives—at the outpouring of grace I have witnessed in the last thirty-six hours. I read and thanked God for every one of your comments and assurances of prayers, even though I didn’t reply to them all.

Thank you. (It feels inadequate, but I mean it from the bottom of my heart.)

Some of you are friends; welcome here. Some of you are old friends; I hope to renew our acquaintance. Some of you are strangers; please don’t stay that way long. We are sisters on the road to Glory. Let us walk a few miles together and talk of what it means to grow and hurt and love and follow Christ.

Over the next few weeks, I’m planning on posting pieces of the epilepsy story, although there is no tidy summary at the end. This is a story we are still living.

With your prayers, you have made yourself a part of this story.

I can’t thank you enough.