Only after she got out of the car did I realize two important problems. The first was that many streets were closed that morning to accommodate the runners. The second was that I do not know Richmond at all. My GPS did not acknowledge the closed roads, and the detour signs were inconsistent. I gave up the plan to cheer at the 5^th and 10^th mile markers and decided instead to head out of the downtown area to a park the course passed through. I figured at least there would be parking at a park and said a quick prayer for God to help me find my way.

Unfortunately, all the roads that accessed the park were closed, and there was no easy go-around. I drove around aimlessly for a while, in and out of charming neighborhoods, where people were still asleep or at least warm inside enjoying their coffee. I pulled in front of a little bungalow, just as a couple and their dog came out. I rolled down the window and asked if they knew where the marathon route was.

“You lucked out,” the young man laughed. “It’s a few blocks away.” His wife kindly added, “You can park right here. It’ll be fine”

I smiled at my good luck and headed around the corner following their directions. I came across a few cheerful race officials, who kindly pointed out a path that would take me even closer. I hurried along, not wanting to miss what might be my only chance to cheer my daughter. After a while, I came to a Y in the road and found a small group of other spectators.

“This is the best spot,” a friendly woman shared. “We get to see the runners on their way into the park and then again when they come out.” The spot was sunny and uncrowded, with lovely fall foliage lining the road. We didn’t have to do anything but turn around, and a half hour later she ran by again, smiling and flushed.

But here’s the second miracle. When it was time to head back to my car, I realized I had no idea where I’d left it.

“What street was it on?” my daughter asked.
“I didn’t even look at a street sign.” I answered.
“Ok, how long did you walk before you found the Y in the road?”  
“I have no idea; I was hurrying, and I didn’t look at my watch or track my steps!”

My daughter drove me around for about a half hour, but from her car, the perspective was different, and nothing looked familiar.  The volunteers were gone, and the race debris cleaned up. Then I saw a tree limb in a yard and had a faint recollection of a tree company at work.

“Wait! This is familiar,” I said excitedly. “Turn here!”  We drove slowly and at the next corner I spotted a garden gnome.

“Yes, we’re close!” Finally, around the block I recognized an unique garden, and sure enough, right nearby was my car.

On the drive home I thought about the day. It was remarkable that despite being completely lost, I’d found my way to the perfect spot to cheer my daughter. It was equally remarkable that after not paying any attention to where I left my car, I successfully found it. God had heard my prayers and answered them.

Why does God choose to answer some prayers and not others? Why doesn’t everyone get miracles? I don’t know the answer, though I wish I did. I’ve gradually accepted that I never will, at least not on this side of heaven.

God is good even if it doesn’t always feel that way.
God is faithful even when I am doubtful.
And even if I don’t understand it, I trust it and believe it. Come to think of it, maybe that’s a third miracle.