I used to think miracles were 'big' things. Grandiose events that defy impossibility.
People coming alive from the dead (does that even happen anymore?).
That one time I saw a guy who had one leg shorter than the other, and the short leg grew to make them even (no I am SO not making that up.)
Ahh, you can see where I am going with this.
I had a baby.
A baby who grew despite the odds (two prior failed pregnancies.) Who, despite a risky pregnancy which was cut short, has continued to thrive.
A miracle was hearing her meowling cry when she was born.
A miracle was her coming off oxygen after a few days.
Her feeding- no her feeding has not been a miracle. Far from it. 10 months on an NG tube is far from what we were praying and hoping for.
But tonight, my heart has been opened again to those small miracles.
My girl, opening her mouth, bite after bite to eat her dinner.
Outstretched grubby hands reaching for that fish finger, shoving it into her mouth, chewing, swallowing, smiling.
My miracles are not your miracles. I don't know what yours are. They might be things I take for granted. Good health in myself. A loving relationship. A baby who sleeps relatively well.
I don't know what your miracles are.
But I do know they are occurring. Maybe not every day. But they are there, if you just look close enough.
Don't just search for the grandiose miracle, for they are few and far between. Those small miracles are even more magical than the big ones, I think, because they are yours and yours alone.
You are the only one with the eyes to see the small joys.