I was blessed to hear Sara Groves play live last Sunday, and the lyrics to one of her songs has been pulsing through my veins all week. Listen here: Miracle
Lay down your arms
Give up the fight
Quiet our hearts for a little while
Things have been spoken
Shouldn’t be said
Rattles around in our hearts and our heads
Let’s feel what we cannot feel
Know what we cannot know
Let’s heal where we couldn’t heal
Oh, it’s a miracle, it’s a miracle
Let’s say what we cannot say
Let’s see what we cannot not see
Let’s hear what we could not hear
Oh it’s a mystery, love is a mystery
Oh it’s a miracle, it’s a miracle
Let’s be a miracle
People are extravagant. Let’s face it, we like big reveals and sometimes we need them. Sometimes if it’s not loud enough or flashy enough we don’t even slow down to notice. I’ve always believed in miracles. I’ve seen them throughout my life and I know that I will continue to. My daughter is a complete miracle. Some might call her a ‘medical miracle’ or simply a case of being ‘in the right place at the right time.’ But the more I think about it. We are all miracles.
We shouldn’t be living and breathing. In a world with so much pain and so much loss…a world of fires, human trafficking, poverty, disease, loneliness, depression, fear, death—basically an endless list of ‘have mercy.’ We still come up for air. We are still here. Our hearts continue to beat. What does that even mean? I think it means we are miracles. So before you go running for the extravagant, stop and look in the mirror. I’m serious. Remember who you are. A miracle. You got up today when a million feelings told you, pull back the covers and hide. That is amazing. That is significant, and the best part…life is waiting for you.
I’ve seen healing. I’ve also seen loss. I’ve seen more than you can imagine at my ripe age, but the best thing and my most favorite thing to see is: love. The kind that begins again, day after day–despite all odds.