Will today’s miracle be a dramatic rescue, unfolding at the last possible moment? Will it be the eleventh-hour blanket of peace that settles into the last valleys of conflict?
Will today’s miracle, Lord, be our recognition that you were here with us all along?
I stand and walk to a neighbor, bringing a bucket and a stool. Will they see the delivery of needed implements as miraculous? What of the miracle that, in walking, I fall forward and catch myself, step after step, over and over?
Or, even, that I bestirred myself at all? I went to them for reasons unknown to me.
Let me live yet among everyday miracles, Lord.
(Letter #2,501)