Miracles don’t happen.
Except when they do.
I waffle back and forth on what to call a miracle. I’m pretty content to say the time someone prayed for me and told me to wiggle a toe which then happened the next morning for the first time in 347 days is a miracle. My friend Jo calls that convenient timing. My surgeon said it was medically inexplicable, but she didn’t use the term miracle either.
At this point, it feels like it would be a miracle for my insurance to do their job. Because I still don’t have that claim processed correctly. It’s annoying.
But I’m quicker to point to the peace that passes understanding as the actual miracle. I’m really not bothered about the bill right now.
Perhaps that’s because of the raging bladder infection that I have…
I’ve postponed my botox injections for over a year now, but I won’t be putting them off again barring a genuine-over-the-top miracle. The pain, spasms, and incontinence that showed up with a vengeance this week are too much to deal with for long. I’ve got my Jahreskontrolle in just over two weeks, and I’ll have the botox injections barely two weeks after that. I’m always hopeful that I’ll have more to show off when I go visit the REHAB hospital, and while I have made improvements since my last visit, it’s less than I’d like to show off.
I have high goals for myself. That book a day pace tapered off this week, and I had to reckon with the implications. Turns out, I’m fine. I still read a lot for enjoyment, and I love that I had three weeks of loads of time to do so. I had one super productive workday last week, and I’m planning out some stuff to get work done this coming week. (Contrary to popular belief, teachers don’t have the whole summer off.) I’ll still hope to get six more books finished before we start classes at the end of August – that’s a pretty reasonable goal. I’ll also finish revisions on my new textbook set to publish next month, finish my curriculum plans, map out my semester, and update school documentation for my courses before I see students. Honestly, that’s a lot, and it’ll be some kind of miracle if I manage to finish it all.
The thing is, I’ve had this miraculous summer where I was able to rest well, and now I’ll work from a place of rest rather than burnout like so much of the Western world seems to do. I didn’t earn this summer break; I begin my school year rested because of the gift of Sabbath. I have learned I’m so much more capable of productivity working from this pattern. Which is also why my second and third collections of poetry will come out within the next year – and most likely my memoir.
Call it what you like, but from my perspective, my life is kinda one big miracle.
Miracles do happen.
Except when you don’t expect them.
My student with those Thursday blues came back into town last week, and he stopped by for a bit yesterday, and we had a lovely chat. He realized his life is a Thursday – the day he considered boring – but it’s full of beautiful things he wasn’t paying attention to. We’re both learning to look for the little beauties all around and call them miracles. The birds delighting in loops through the air during dinnertime; the wind rustling the leaves in the sassy trees; the chance to read Hebrews in one sitting. He’s prayed over me asking for my healing, and together we keep asking for everything.
Miracles do happen.
Except when you aren’t looking for them.
I’m ready with my eyes on Jesus.
Let’s look for some miracles.
