Do You Believe in Miracles?

Part of discussions of faith, especially related to health, would at some point have to come to a discussion of miracles. How do we as humans, with our limited knowledge, decide what is a miracle and what is not? When I think of a miracle, I think of some grand event that defies all reason and logic. Others may think a fairly ordinary event is a miracle. Sarah McLachlan sings a song in Charolette's Web that is titled "Ordinary Miracle." You can listen to it here. It says: "Its not that unusual when everything is beautiful, it's just another ordinary miracle today." I know I do not pay close enough attention to the ordinary miracles that happen in my life...and maybe none of us do. 

When I was ten years old and had just had my amputation, I went to Mayo (in Rochester, MN) to get fitted for my first prosthesis. When I got home with my prosthesis, there happened to be a mass of "healing" at the Catholic church that same evening. Of course we went. The mass was conducted by a traveling priest, not our usual priest. It was an extremely evangelical event for a Catholic mass. People went up to the alter, were prayed over, and collapsed. Even at ten, I was not a believer in this type of thing. 

Part of a Catholic mass is to bring up the wine and bread to the priest. It is called the "Presentation of the Gifts." When we arrived at church that night, we were asked to do the presentation of the gifts. It would be a great effect, right? A little girl with one leg and cancer hobbling up in front of everyone - perfect. You may or may not be able to pick up the anger in my tone. I was just learning to walk. This was not something I was ready to do, but I was not asked, I was told.

So, when we got up to the alter, the priest put his hand on me and said, "If you pray hard enough your leg can come back." 

-This is where you gasp in horror -

We returned to our seat, and I was crying. Bawling, really. All I remember is my dad telling me to stop crying. Even when I think of it now, it makes me tear up. It is a source of major contention between my parents and I. We hardly ever talk about it. I don't even like to write about it because I don't want you to think my parents were/are awful or anything. They always, always, always tried to do their best with the situation. This decision and their reaction to my feelings was, in my opinion, wrong. It shaped me in a way I cannot even begin to explain, but I'm sure you can understand some of the implications.

Oddly enough, the subject came up one night when my mom was with me in the ER. I don't remember, even, why we were there. It was one of the instances, though, where the doctor went on and on about what a "miracle" it is that I am alive. 

"It is a miracle," my mom said.

"I don't know. I really don't know. Maybe it's just something we don't understand because of our limited knowledge. But call it a miracle if you want. It's just like that healing mass in Hampton," I began. "Do you really consider what that priest said to me to be true?"

Without skipping a heartbeat, she said, "I consider all things to be possible with God."

I assumed that was a "yes."

"I want to believe that, but I can't. If it's true, why hasn't it happened? Have I not prayed hard enough?" I could feel the anger well up in me.

"You survived. Maybe that was the miracle," she said simply and assuredly.

I let the discussion end there, but I have thought about that discussion many, many times since. I am amazed at my mom's faith. Jesus did heal the blind and cure the sick in the Bible....I just get so angry at God when I really stop and think about my own hurt and all of the hurt and suffering in the world. If all things are possible with God, why do I have all of this struggle? Why do faithful people I know have struggles much, much worse than mine, even? Anger is the second step in the grieving process, so maybe I am stuck there.

There was a minister who came to the asylum, and he handed out a poem that I am going to share tomorrow - I know I said today, but I had to give my background first and it is an experience that requires a whole post - so tomorrow I will share the poem and whole experience with you. It was another message to me, I am sure of it....how quickly, though, we forget those messages and fall back it our ruts of disbelief.

I will end with one of my favorite verses of Mother Theresa. It calms me to read it, it reminds me to let go of hurt, to keep doing what I feel is right, and to feel okay about the obstacles in my way. It is said that she had these words written on her wall. 

  People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered.  Forgive them anyway.

            If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.  Be kind anyway.

            If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies.  Succeed anyway.

           If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you.  Be honest and sincere anyway.

            What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight.  Create anyway.

            If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous.  Be happy anyway.

            The good you do today, will often be forgotten.  Do good anyway.

         Give the best you have, and it will never be enough.  Give your best anyway.

         In the final analysis, it is between you and God.  It was never between you and them anyway.

Amen. And goodnight.