Miracles happen. Really they do.
In fact they actually happen all the time but most times we just don’t notice them or more importantly recognize that’s really what they are. What you believe about the inter workings of life events directly influences the perspective of how a miracle is perceived. Take for example the simple task the heart plays in keeping you alive. With it’s own inner clock it beats and beats without any notice until something goes wrong. Life itself is a miracle in it’s purest form. Some believe that every event that makes a life is actually a deliberate challenge or test to force our souls to come to the places they were destined to be. True acts of fate. Some say they just got lucky while others still see everything that happens as a whimsical series of causes and effects. Personally, I feel things small and large happen for a reason.
Sometimes they are easy to recognize, while other times it may be difficult to read the message. When my mother was killed I was just a few minutes away from getting in the car with her. I was eight years old and wanted to go everywhere she went. She left to run a quick errand and never came home. Some through the years have said how tragic and devastating. Many were so grateful that I was not with her they called it a miracle. As an adult I know more about how to see these things. Mother was a very outspoken woman. She was “Woman of the Year”, she was a nurse. She had been in newspapers and on television. The probability that I would have become an artist and had the confidence to use my talent to help so many people might never have been realized if I had stood in her shadows.
I have had the opportunity to make a difference in cancer research, bring families closer together through portraits. I could not appreciate fully the importance of a portrait without having lived without such things in my own childhood. I am the artist, mother, sister, wife, friend that I was destined to be but without the pivotal moment of a tragedy I would have never been so focused and might have never fully realized my potential.
The man that was saved by the hero stepping into the subway in NYC a few months ago got a message. That small space and the degree to which the story hit all over the country made it easier to see as a miracle of sorts. Had he fallen ten minutes before, that somebody that was supposed to save him would not have been able to do so. Unfortunately it gets even more complicated because then you have to ask yourself, well who exactly was more affected by that single miracle? To put it more clearer, who was supposed to “get” the miracle? And this is where my brain begins to ache with the possibilities. All this reminds me so much of that crazy philosophy class in college! That class nearly drove my husband mad. Artist brains accepts the “miracle” concept better than techie brains. Was it the man that was helped? Was it the the man who actually saved him? Was it to reawaken the sense of abandonmeant many bystanders felt and clearly failed to act responsibly to assist him? Or could it have been a necessary challenge for the hero’s children to see their father save someone; that in that single event they are changed forever?
One of the reason’s people probably don’t dwell on “miracles” is that they always force us to think about stuff we can never really explain. It’s not easy business trying to explain a miracle any more so than why the sky is blue or where we go when the body dies. In my own life I have had circumstances that appeared as a negative forces tumultuously attempting to wreck havoc on my life and how it exists as created by me. Good always overcomes evil. ALWAYS. That is in itself a miracle to be cherished.
When you are connected and actively seeking the meanings behind all the events of your life, you open up yourself to receive miracles. The lady who had her house blow up has been given a message. She has indeed received a miracle. I would bet she has done a lot of good in her life and is being called to do more good. Clearly she was not supposed to perish in what under all accounts would have been the only expected thing to have happened. Some might say it was a fluke…others still might try to explain away how or why she “logistically” got pulled out of the house as it self destructed. Was it a miracle? Yep, I think so.
