I remember heading to a hermitage in our monastery woods to make retreat before I became a novice. In the hermitage was a copy of Mary Lou's book of poetry, The Blue Heron and Thirty-Seven Other Miracles. I read the poems in succession before the day ended. Each tells the story of a miracle Lou experienced in her life. Here is one.
"What
is
most
precious
in
life?"
I asked.
"Music,"
she answered,
"and loving
someone.
It doesn't
really matter
if you
are loved
in return.
Just
to love
another person
—at least once
in your lifetime—
is reason
enough
to have walked
the earth."
Is this not a miracle?
____________________
The sun was shining the other day, and we needed some fresh air at work. While I waited for J to come downstairs for a walk, I looked at the patch of soil that lines the walkway into the office. The daffodils were pushing themselves through a dead leaf. Resurrection. Miracle.
Mom is in town this weekend. She works at a garden center, so I took her to Potratz to see the greenhouse. The prayer plant...the pitcher plant...are these not miracles?
We even spotted a blue heron while walking along the creek after Liturgy today. And when the meringue and the lemon filling seal themselves and don't separate? Maybe the best miracle!
And here is a word-play miracle for a "quirky" person such as myself. When I played Wordle yesterday morning, I had five yellows right before my five greens! I had never experienced that before, and I simply delighted. What fun!
But, the real miracle I want this weekend? The Eagles to win the Super Bowl tonight! Fly, Eagles, Fly!
We are surrounded by miracles, indeed. As we sang this morning, "Open my eyes, God."
Let us walk in the holy presence.
