There are those who scoff at events or happenings that others consider miracles. Little do the scoffers realize that they themselves are witnesses to miracles each and every day they live and breathe. Oh, there may not be grandiose miracles of biblical proportions taking place in front of us on a daily basis but with every beat of the heart, every blink of the eye and every tick of the clock, there are certainly miracles taking place all around us. Grandiose, no, but miracles just the same … what I’d like to call ordinary miracles. It may seem odd to use the words ordinary and miracle in conjunction with each other but if we look closely enough, the truly ordinary occurrences in life are indeed miraculous in nature.
I can’t say when I was made aware of the occurrence of my first ordinary miracle so I don’t remember when I was introduced to the blessings they brought my way. I do remember many of them throughout my life journey.
Perhaps the first was in the form of passionate puppy licks from a little Dachshund named Dinky that I had a child. It may have happened when I stepped up into a Piper Cherokee airplane, took to the sky with my dad as the pilot and experienced a birds-eye view of puffy white clouds around me and patchwork green beneath me.
I encountered an ordinary miracle when I looked out over the beauty of the peaks and valleys of the misty Smokey Mountains on the first of many summer trips to North Carolina with my parents. And, although I had taken many flights in smaller private airplanes with my dad, when I flew to Atlanta on a commercial airliner, I was absolutely speechless as I watched with amazement while the plane rose up above the clouds into a sun-bathed blue morning sky. The first time I felt the flutter of movement of each of my now-grown daughters inside me, my heart began to beat a little faster. When I visited friends in New Mexico and turned to the unexpected sight of the magnificent snow-capped Rocky Mountains, I realized what the word “breathtaking” really meant.
I thrilled at the miracle of my oldest daughter’s bravery as she climbed up on her first horse at a very young age and rode it proudly just as if she’d been riding forever. As I sat in the bleachers at a Friday night high school football game and heard my youngest daughter sing the National Anthem, I don’t remember what came first, the tears or the goosebumps, but I remember knowing that I was witnessing was a miracle.
Just a short time ago, I experienced the miracle of friends setting aside their own hectic schedules to run to hold my hand and be at my side when I lost my beloved mother. I valued the miracle of each word of sympathy from friends and family as they shared with me how much they loved my mother and how much joy and laughter she added to their lives during her time here on earth.
No, perhaps these simple things don’t fit Webster’s definition of a miracle but they certainly fit my definition of one. I pray that each of you will take a moment to reflect on the miracles in your life and be thankful to the one who gifts us with the proof of his love through everyday, ordinary miracles.