I woke up this Easter morning with what I want to say is a mind full of memories but what it really feels like is a body full of memories. These memories feel alive, as if they are flowing through every cell of my being. They are dancing around and awaking memories long asleep. They dance from my mind to my heart, into the lines around my eyes where tears have fallen and land in the corners of my mouth creating a smile.
Maybe it is that it is Easter and one cannot think about Easter without thinking about death and miracles. I do not understand the workings of miracles and why they sometimes happen and why at other times they seem to be a thing of myths. I have been on the receiving end of miracles and I have been the one on my knees screaming at God wondering where my miracle was. What I have learned over the years, is that it is the miracle of miracles, you cannot know when, how, or even why they happen. They are their definition; a surprising and welcome event that is not explicable by natural or scientific laws and is therefore considered to be the work of a divine agency.
As I laid in bed this morning I was thinking back to when my dad was ill, how I was able to harness an inner strength I didn’t know I had but that had existed from the beginning of time. I remembered how I would sit for hours looking at a man who I had spent my life looking at and never truly seeing. It was only during this time that I was able to truly see the soul of my dad. To see his soul is a miracle, to recognize this is a miracle. If you had seen my dad during his illness you would not believe he is the same man today, he walks uninhibited buy a cane, his body is stronger than it has been in years. This is a miracle, it is unexplainable yet it is undeniable.
I am learning to stand in the awe of the Divine without need for an explanation, some days this is easier than others. I am learning that we are witness to thousands of miracles a day, only we tend to be so busy in our busyness that we cannot see them. We experience miracles every time we arrive at a destination, every time we inhale and exhale, every second of every day a miracle is occurring in our cells. We take all of these small miracles for granted, yet they occur without fanfare or recognition.
To almost die yet live is a miracle. The miracle is not in the living or in the dying it is in being able to come to a place where you view death as yet another place of growth, a place of rebirth into something bigger then we ever imagined. We are all dying in some way everyday, physically, emotionally, or spiritually, this is neither good or bad, it just is. Death is as much a miracle as being born is. When we let go of unhealthy patterns a part of us dies and we may grieve it but what is born out of that death is greater than what was there before. I believe the same is true of physical death.
As I celebrate this Easter I rejoice in the miracle that I experience with every breath. I rest in the belief that with every death there is a miracle, there is a rebirth, not only for the person who is no longer in the body we came to know them in but for us as well. For a part of us has died with them; if we are still and allow the grief to flow through us and not become part of us we too can be reborn. For with every death I have grieved, every miracle I have witnessed I have been reborn. I am kinder, gentler, more loving, and compassionate, is that not a miracle that something so beautiful can be created from such despair?
To believe in miracles is a choice and I choose to open my eyes and mindfully look for the miracles that occurring around me.
I decided to google songs about miracles and found this, I loved the pictures they chose. I am not sure what happened why it goes black and plays the song again but as I said the pictures shown during the song is amazing. I hope you enjoy.