Miracles: The Ordinary and the Divine
When we hear the word *miracle*, we often think of something grand—water turning to wine, the parting of the Red Sea, or a sudden, unexplained healing. But what if miracles are less about the spectacular and more about the sacred woven into the fabric of our daily lives?
I have come to believe that miracles are all around us, showing up in ways we might not recognize unless we train our hearts to see them. They are the small changes we make over time that can lead to transformation, the unexpected kindnesses, the unexpected and welcome surprises grace can give us when we need them most.
A miracle can be as simple as the right words arriving at the right moment—a phrase in a book, a song on the radio, or a friend calling just when we need them. It can be the body’s resilience, the way wounds heal, the way breath continues, even when the heart is heavy. It can be the way love shows up, steadfast and steady, even when we feel unworthy of it.
Some miracles unfold over time, the slow work of transformation that reshapes us in ways we never expected. Almost thirteen years ago, I surrendered to sobriety, and that choice—one day at a time—became the greatest miracle of my life. It was not instant. It was not dramatic in the ways we might expect from Hollywood stories of redemption. But it was a miracle nonetheless. It was the unfolding of grace, as day by day I learned to let go and truly live.
I think of surrender itself as a miracle. There was a time when the very idea of letting go terrified me. I clung to control, believing that if I just *managed* enough, planned enough, tried enough, I could keep everything in place. But surrender—true surrender—is not about giving up. It is about trusting that we are held. That there is something larger, something wiser, something deeply loving that moves through us and for us. To surrender is to open ourselves to the possibility of miracles.
No Order of Miracles
In *A Course in Miracles*, there is a teaching that has stayed with me: *There is no order of difficulty in miracles.* This means that there is no such thing as a “big” miracle or a “small” one. The same divine power that can move mountains is also available for the simplest of requests. You can ask for healing from a serious disease as easily as you can ask for a parking space close to the door of the store you drove to in the pouring rain.
How often do we limit our requests, believing some things are too much to ask for? How often do we hesitate to hope for the impossible, afraid that we might be disappointed? But the truth is, the universe does not measure miracles on a scale of difficulty. The same grace that brings healing to a broken body can also bring ease to a difficult conversation. The same love that reunites souls can also ensure that you find what you need at the perfect time.
When we embrace this teaching, we realize that the only limits placed on miracles are the ones we impose by failing to ask for them. We forget to include the Divine in our problems. God does not go where She is not invited. You will never get the miracle you did not invite the Great Goodness to give you.
Miracles in Everyday Life
Sometimes miracles look like radical self-acceptance. Like choosing to love the in-laws we have, the job we have, the flaws we have. Releasing the need to be perfect, learning to allow for our faults and even learning to love them.
I have learned that when I look for miracles, they multiply. I see them in the kindness of a stranger who holds the door open when my hands are full. I see them in the way my husband’s love remains steady, year after year, no matter how many versions of myself I have become. I see them in the way the Divine offers help and support to me all day, every day whenever I ask for it.
Miracles are found in the pauses, in the quiet moments of knowing that all is well, even when circumstances suggest otherwise. It can be found when you place your hand over your precious heart and say, “Thank you for your courage. Thank you for showing up today. Thank you for beating and reminding me that life can move along quite well without me having to control it.”
Opening Our Eyes
The greatest miracle, perhaps, is the reminder that we are never alone. That we are loved beyond measure. That grace is always moving, always offering itself to us. Divine help is ALWAYS available. We do not have to earn miracles. We do not have to prove our worth to receive them. We only have to be willing to see them- and in that willingness, everything changes.
All we have to do is open our eyes.