I can work miracles.

Scenes from this weekend.

Opening the dryer, I spotted a shirt that previously had a gnarly stain. I felt deflated, the stain probably didn't come out. I forgot and now it is set. I have ruined one of Mark's expensive dress shirts. I am angry that he spilled something on it in the first place. He ruined it too. As I lifted the shirt, it was spotless, not even a trace of the stain! That stuff I sprayed on it worked. Elation. I am a miracle worker! Wahooooo!

Immediately the self doubt set in. I am not a miracle worker. It was only laundry. << yes, believing I am a miracle worker is a bit over-inflated, especially over laundry. >> There is only one miracle worker. Why would I think so highly of myself? I am just a mother who is failing to keep her family afloat.

In less than the time it took to empty the dryer, my self esteem and worth has been completely attacked and deflated by lies. Lies that I tell myself daily.

Instead, I am here to tell you that I can work miracles. I am boldly laying this claim, which my heart struggles to believe daily. I can work miracles because the spirit of Christ dwells in me (John 14:11-14). That is a hard concept for me to accept.

I am capable.

I am strong.

I am enough.

I can work miracles.

I can celebrate all of the little accomplishments and also the big ones, giving glory to God.

My miracles might be small by earthly standards, but they are the tangible and they are good work. My miracles are God's grace to me and a blessing to others. My miracles are only because of Christ, not my own strength or will. These miracles are for God's glory, not mine. The work that I do is a constant reminder that he is my strength. In fact, it is actually His work.  Because of Him, I can work miracles.