Yesterday morning, I got an early, productive start. That part has nothing to do with being healed. But it's a big deal that I was able to be showered and dressed before the children were awake, even Violet.
My dressed and makeuped self went downstairs and saw some potatoes sitting on the counter. I then thought of pan-roasted potatoes for breakfast. Thinly sliced potatoes and onions, a bit of garlic and then some dried herbs all cooked in butter and oil and then the pan is put in the oven to further caramelize the veggies and softened the potatoes. It's one of my most comforting, brilliant dishes. I made the pan-roasted potatoes, took the pan out of the 425 degree oven and then forgot the handle was hot as hell and I touched it. I immediately put my fingers under cold water and started praying.
"Heavenly Father, I can't have a burned hand. I can't. I have three children and I need to function. Please Heavenly Father!"
And then the thought popped in my head to just leave my hand under the water for a really long time. So I did. For about 5 solid minutes.
After, my hand hurt. It was red, but no marks. Later in the day, still no marks. That night, still no marks and not even any pain. I was even able to rub the dickens out of Ethan's feet.
So I was healed. A true blue miracle. Didn't you know all miracles are blue?