Small Miracles

(Began February 28; my kids are happy and healthy today when I’m publishing)

I’m sitting in the driveway with a coffee, music playing, sun on my face. The boys are playing silly games and arguing about whose turn it is to ride a toy we’re going to give away. One of these boys has been sick all week, missing school and keeping me home. (though I did still make my dental appointment, and for the first time in years heard “looking good!”; small miracle!) Firecracker begged to play on his bike, even after a rough morning being sick, so outside we went. Fresh air is always good for body and soul.

And the forced pause on my week makes space and time for me to sit without rushing to the next errand or self-imposed job. This hard-stop is like a balm to my busy schedule just as much as it is time for my son’s body to rest and heal.

An elderly neighbor just waved as she crossed the street, cane in hand. She recently spent months in physical therapy after an injury left her barely able to walk. Insisting upon doing as much on her own as possible, she still walked (with some assistance from a walker or friend) daily to the mailboxes and took care of her own trash bins. Now she walks with strength and gratitude for having regained greater mobility.

And persistence combined with strength makes way for miracles of healing. I watch her and learn to be resilient. I see how amazing the human body is, how God can heal, how often patience is required to see the miracle. Surely it’s a miracle she rebounded. It may look like simple yet hard work in physical therapy did what is designed to do, but it worked, and she walks freely again, and I see a story of several small miracles that unfolded for her.

The sky’s brilliantly blue, the clouds waltz across the sky as if art in motion, and we see waves and puppies (in the eyes of the five year old, anyway). It’s beautiful. Without a pause, without presence, I’d miss it.

…she “kept all these things in her heart” (Luke 2:51, RSVCE)… long ago, Mary’s contemplative example took root in my life, and I too keep many things in my heart. I pause and ponder. I pause and respond. I pause and marvel at the miracles unfolding in hearts.

My boys were sick two days ago, and I reached out to a friend, asking for help to take the healthy kids to school. Small miracle that she could! I thought nothing else of it, until my teen later told me that “D’s family also prays on the way to school”, and I praised the Lord for the witness and example of her friend. And another small miracle unfolded, when that same normally-silent teen (Saint Thomas, keep praying for her to keep seeking!) shared a prayer intention during our drive-time prayers.

“The smallest miracles can hover right above us, if we only look to see.” —Laura Fanucci

If only we look to see. If only I pause to observe and become a witness to what unfolds around me. If only . . .

I know it’s not easy to pause. It’s not easy to clear the fog from stress-filled days in order to glimpse beauty and growth around us. It’s nearly impossible to perceive the first blossoms and tiny green leaves unfurling on the first days of spring. But what a gift when I see through the haze and swirling crazy moments to take in the growth, the healing, the breath of God creating anew and again.

If only I look.