This is a snippet from Anne Lammot and as I was thinking about Miracles this weekend and what they are and what they mean this is very appropriate and says it all.
It is a miracle that we are still in the Hospice after 8 weeks. When we came here Gary was Dying and had a few days to live. This extended time period is a miracle, it is also all Anne says.
"My family finally got the slow-mo miracle we'd been working, praying and healing toward. But the problem with miracles is that they don't necessarily make you mildly euphoric. They're not caffeinated, which is what I would prefer. You can be grateful and amazed beyond words that God, heard your prayers, jiggled things around, and speitzed them, to somehow help a huge problem in your life to resolve in a beautiful, surprising way. But it might leave you exhausted. I think a better system would be for God to honor frequent buyer punch cards, so every 10th resolution or miracle you got would be free.
I'm just saying. Your mind can actually be blown that, against all odds, things have shaken down and turned out in a way that you would have barely been able to hope for. But it still might mean your heart will ache.
If I were God, or God's West Coat Rep, I would have a much more organized and predictable system.
Take Lazarus, or instance. His sisters get their miracle; and even though he ends up dying eventually, we still see thatthat's what it was. Or say, for instance, that you have anorexic teenage daughter, who almost died, and instead, was shown a way out of No Way. From extreme secrecy and isolation, she ends up with a pit crew, or at least she has one amazing person to walk with her. She not only survives, but blossoms, fully, and then gets herself into a college 3000 miles away.
Well, a miracle, right? If you've been through this, you know how close you came to losing her. You know how far away from you the disease took her. And yet, now she's thriving, and your heart is so filled with gratitude that you could burst. You're Zorba the Greek. Thankyouthankyouthankyou.
And yet, she's about to go live 3000 miles away.
That's all I'm saying: miracles aren't the same as nitrous oxide, which would be SO great, if you ask me. But no. Miracles means Grace must have tiptoed sneakily into the picture while you were busy with your clipboard, making lists and writing down all your Good Ideas on how to save, rescue and fix everyone. Miracles--even little brown paper bag miracles--are when you absolutely could not have gotten to where you are now, from where you were. But it may come at a cost.
God's provincence does not mean No Storms, which I hate hate hate. I would not agree to this, given a choice. By the same token--given a choice--I would not have agreed to grow four inches when I was 13, as my knees and elbows ached sharply for most of a year. And anyway, I've shrunk an inch--so I want my money back. Growing in body and spirit I hard.
That's what I've been thinking about, that sometimes you don't notice that you got a miracle, or ARE a miracle, because it's more of a mixed grille than you'd been expecting. There's joy and relief, but maybe also bittersweet feelings, and exhaustion. It turns out to be a quiet consignment store miracle, instead of something snazzier and perfect from Ikea. So for today, a) who asked me, anyways? and b) thankyouthankyouthankyou."