I recently posted this on my Facebook page:
I could use a miracle today. I don’t have any idea what it needs to look like, but it definitely needs to be an infusion of the sacred bending low and touching my heart and my life; a glimpse of the Creator creating something more, something different; a whisper of love that courses through my veins and then through the threads of this life.
Shortly thereafter I attempted a bit more school with my six- and eight-year-old girls and then herded them outside. They don’t need much coaxing to go outside, but the process of getting them focused to find socks and put them on and to uncover shoes and get them on little feet, let’s just say it’s a process that resembles herding and leave it at that.
While my girls romped and ran and explored and dug in the dirt and planted an imaginary field of wheat, I stood in proximity to them at the edge of the woods and near to God, whispering prayers of incomplete sentences and thoughts. The kind of prayers for which there are no words and for which none are needed for God to hear.
When at last we came back inside, I drew a warm, Epsom salt bath for my girls and breathed in the smell of the outdoors mixing with lavender and realized that life’s moments are God’s miracles.
Sometimes miracles are found in the simple ordinary that surrounds us.
Sometimes miracles are the scent of joy settling over excited girls and a sense of calm where earlier there was doubt and insecurity.
Sometimes the miracles are found in the backyard, in the flowers, the birds, the trees, the creation that God so lovingly designed and then gave to us as a gift.
Sometimes the miracles are found around the dining room table, over a simple meal prepared with love and shared with family, where there are excited voices that run over each other with stories from their day.
Sometimes we are the miracle for which we are searching, for which we yearn. Because we are always His masterpiece even in our surest brokenness and greatest stumbling. And because we are always His masterpiece, His handiwork, because we are created in His image, we are miracles in this flawed and hurting world.
We are each a miracle worker in the lives of those we love and in the lives of those with whom we cross paths, even if only in the checkout line or a doctor’s waiting room.
The next time you are seeking a miracle, take a good long look at the person in the mirror and see yourself as the Creator’s masterpiece. See yourself as the child of the King and know what an incredible miracle you are.