I used to be afraid of miracles. I was content reading about miracles long ago and far away in Bible stories…until pure grace turned my perspective upside down. The miracle of God in my plain, unworthy life made me face my fears…the fear of seeing my own helplessness, the fear of being challenged to change, the fear of having to invest my whole life standing by a miracle that I truly believed in.
The funny thing is that my reaction has been quite the opposite. I stretch out my hands to ask for what I was previously fearful of. Songs I´ve heard often enough now break me and challenge me to radical belief. Rain-kissed flowers reflect a love story that is changing my world. I have no desire to get over my amazement and return to my comfortable routine. My only desire is for the miracle to continue…for my breath to be taken away unceasingly…for the reality of God´s kind of love to transform me.
A taste of the miraculous has made me hungry for more. The depth of God´s love is like the call of the wild. I cannot stop hearing its echoes, seeing its beauty even in darkness. I replay the song…I pick the flower…I pause in the light of the sunrise or sunset.
I am no longer satisfied with hearing a song in a new way…I want to hear it over and over…I want the miracle to reach deeper within. I am no longer happy recognizing God´s love in a flower…I want to touch it…I want to keep its color forever between the pages of my journal.
I want to lose track of all skepticism and realize that the miracle that began many months ago is not stuck in the glorious past. The miracle will continue if I replay the song and pick the flower and let God transform all my fears into new levels of faith. This miracle is an eternal gift from God´s heart to mine and I will not forget. This is just the beginning.