Miracles

Many thoughts float through my head daily – some breeze by and I barely notice them; others bring warmth to my whole body, and certain bad ones circle in cyclones and threaten to destroy my peace. Which are the ones worth savoring? The miracles.

People have different thoughts regarding that word – miracles.  

Some people think miracles have to be “big,” and scientifically inexplicable: a doctor sees a tumor mysteriously disappear from a cancerous patient. Some people think miracles can be small, and every-day: a teacher is granted a snow day. And some people don’t believe in miracles at all.

My mom believes in miracles. My first grade class believes in miracles. And when I see their Faith, that helps me to believe too.

My Sister’s Cancer Transformed My Mom’s Faith

My sister was diagnosed with brain cancer when I was in 8^th grade. She had it for less than a year before she died at the age of 6. My mom had prayed that the tumor would go away, but God showed her a different kind of miracle.

My mom thought people would have their Faith restored if they saw my sister cured. When my sister’s health declined to the point of near-death, my mom had another thought: perhaps my sister could perform more miracles from heaven. And God gave my mom the gift of peace.

My sister died on the feast of St. Francis, the peacemaker. Her last words were: “I love.” She had a strong devotion to Jesus and Mary; and the parish priest suggested and permitted her to receive all her sacraments before she died. People would say “I love you” to her and she would always reply, “I love you more.”

After my sister’s death, an alcoholic 20 hours away from my parents’ house, whom my family had never met, prayed to my sister and was cured of his addiction. One woman claimed she had a dream of my sister in heaven. And when my mom and I couldn’t find the keys to an out-of-state rental car after searching the whole thing three times, my sister helped us find them immediately after my mom prayed to her.

Some people would say that these are all coincidences. My mom would say they are miracles. I am happy to meet people where they are and say perhaps both are true, but the latter helps my heart to heal, to feel more deeply God’s presence in my life, and so I choose to believe they are miracles too.

Thank you, God, for the gift of my sister's life.

First Grade Is In Love with St. Anthony

My first grade class has a newfound love for St. Anthony. We recently celebrated his feast day and I made sure to tell them that St. Anthony always finds things when I lose them; he totally loves me.

I told them that I went back to the dollar store where I had bought the United States puzzles I gave them for Christmas so I could buy another one for our classroom. I couldn’t find any left, so I asked the salesclerk. She said shipments came in on Tuesdays, but she couldn’t guarantee that those puzzles were reordered.

I went back to the toy aisle and said, “OK, St. Anthony, where’s that puzzle?”

He found it instantly.

I shared my good news with the clerk; she was happy she didn’t have to sort through Tuesday’s shipment. Of course, my kids had a different reaction, one of delight.

I also told my class about the book St. Anthony found for me when I said I’d give him five seconds (I was in a rush), and an assortment of other items. So, they tried it out (and definitely kept the five second rule...”OK, St. Anthony, I’m giving you five, four, three…)

One of my students found a paper in her desk – that is a REAL miracle, given the state of that desk. Another student found the cap to my dry erase marker after I asked her to go to the Math room to look for it. She searched for a few minutes and came back without it; I asked if she prayed to St. Anthony. She said “no;” she prayed, and came back with the cap in her hands seconds later.

Another student found her glove after she prayed to St. Anthony (I seriously think it just appeared on the table…we looked everywhere for that thing). Other little treasures were found and our faith in this saint, who is really God’s servant, has joyously grown.

Miracles Recreate Me

So who really cares about miracles?

I do.

Why? Because they help me to believe in God, for whom nothing is impossible. God can even recreate me –transform my ugly, negative thoughts into space for Him to move. 

When I begged Him today to free me from the cyclones, I imagined he awoke, jumped off His pillow and told the waves to be quiet, calm and still.

“Why don’t you have Faith?” He asked me: “Did you forget about my little miracles? Did you forget that I am with you?”

“Miracles are signs of my love – kisses from heaven. They are meant to remind you, Beloved, that I am here with you always. Be not afraid.”

God, I believe that You can do anything. Free me from thoughts that steal my joy. Help me to abide in your love today.