Albert Einstein said, “there are two ways to live; you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle.”
Walt Whitman said, “Every moment of light and dark is a miracle.”
During this season of miracles, I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on whether I’ve ever observed a miracle. My answer is, “yes, every day.”
I believe that the mere fact that a greater-being breathed life into each of us and created us out of his light where there was nothing before is a miracle.
I believe that a planet suspended in mid-air, twirling on an axis none of us can feel amongst the emptiness of the sky is miraculous.
I believe that every single day I wake to a life I’ve fought tooth and nail for with air moving in and out of my lungs when a doctor told my parents I would not live to be three is something to marvel at.
I believe that our relationships we have with the individuals who happen to have crossed our paths on the day we met them is wondrous.
I believe that having our needs met…day after day…even if (especially if) bank accounts are tight…the roof over our heads, the food we eat, the clothing we are fortunate enough to have money to buy…all miracles.
When I look around at everything…and ask myself, “Where did that come from? How/what made this moment or this thing in my life possible…it always comes down eventually to something bigger than me. I don’t dispute science or hard work, but who is at the bottom of all that? Who made you so that you could smile at that stranger who was having a bad Wednesday when your smile made all the difference? Where does the will come from that keeps us working at something really hard? How is there money to buy groceries this week when the bank account looked empty last week?
Surviving a tsunami that washes your house away with you in it is a miracle, no doubt. But miracles can be subtle, every day occurrences if we allow ourselves to marvel at them.