Book Launch “zooming” to you soon. Janet Stobie presents her latest book
Threads of Scripture in the Fabric of Life
November 28, 2020 at 7:00 p.m. Eastern Time
There is no charge. They didn’t have a link saying free.
Click on “GLAD YOU’RE COMING. WELCOME” and keep clicking to registration form.
Many of us long for one of God’s miracles. Cure my loved one’s cancer; destroy Covid 19.and so many more. I hear the word miracle and think immediately of a week fifty-five years ago when I waited on the other side of the glass from my three month old son at a hospital in Kitchener. I had dropped him. His skull was fractured. Would he die, or live to have a damaged for life. Even yet my stomach reels, my heart pounds as the fear, the pain, the shame floods through my being. I lived a week of desperate prayer, begging God for a miracle.
Finally. the doctor handed me my beautiful baby and said these words, “Here is your miracle child. The blood from the fracture gathered on the outside of his skull. There is no permanent damage. He’ll be fine.”
I didn’t deserve that miracle. I could never deserve it. Over my lifetime I’ve been present as others received amazing, unusual experiences we call miracles but not many. Yet, we experience unusual miracles every day. I breathe in and out with ease, while others struggle for every breath. You walk to the store while someone else having spent months in a wheelchair, takes her first step. We take for granted a walk in the woods soaking in the autumn colours while someone after years in jail gets to freely enjoy the miracle of sitting in a park by the lake.
We live in a world of miracles. Even in death God’s miracles come. My sister and I held my adoptive mom in our arms as the breath of life slipped from her being and she confidently stepped into God’s waiting arms. That, too, was a miracle.
At birth we are given the gift of sight. As we grow old many of us develop cataracts that cloud our eyes. At birth we have the gift of seeing miracles. Just watch a toddler as he gazes at a bug crawling through the sand, or she hands you a bouquet of dandelions. As we mature life happens, and our ability to see miracles becomes cloudy. Sometimes, our faith or love acts like the eye surgeon. The lens that clouds our vision is lifted and we catch a glimpse of God’s miracles. Sometimes but not often we receive the new lens, the miracle lens and we can see. We can see and receive all the miracles around us. Sunsets, autumn colours, the hug of a loved one, a friend’s listening ear.
Let’s practice opening your hearts to God’s everyday miracles raining down upon us. Remember miracles are truly in the heart of the beholder.