Little Miracles and Everyday Life

In reading, Peggy Noonan's John Paul The Great, I was struck by the number of times prior to becoming Pope that others had premonitions that he would be.  Especially amazing was the young child who, when hearing him announced as the new Cardinal, blurted out in a crowd that he would now be pope.  While everyone laughed, he walked up to her and kissed her.  Out of the mouths of babes.

This got me thinking about the little miracles in our own everyday lives that we sometimes meet, but oftentimes don't.  Mainly because we simply don't pay attention.  Everyone has them.  One time, during college, I drove with a girlfriend through the town of Berkeley.  We passed by an decrepit old building  on the corner of Oxford and Hearst, directly across from campus.  A little old lady was outside the building selling junk, mainly dead plants.  As we drove past, I said to my friend.  With my luck, I will probably end up living there after college.  Not less than a year later, I did.  I moved a two hour drive away and ended up in that very same building.  That little old lady became my neighbor.  My mother would often visit and give her money for the dead plants.

Another time, while working in the Bay Area, a work colleague said to me.  "You should look into moving to Orange County and live in Irvine.  It's very nice.  I think you would like it.  Allergan is a good company, you should check it out."  At the time, I wasn't even considering moving to Southern California. And, where did I move just a few short years later?  And, where did I work?

My neighbor, from early on in her childhood always said that when she grew up she wanted a daughter named Jessica and a son name John. She ended up not being able to have children of her own.  But, when she went to the adoption center and selected the one boy to adopt, even though the staff there encouraged her to select more than one in case the adoption didn't go through, she said, "No.  That's him."  His name, she then found out, was John.  Two years later, a woman knocked on her door and asked if she could take care of her granddaughter for the afternoon.  Even though my friend had never met nor seen either the woman or the child before, she couldn't refuse.  The woman never returned and my neighbor ended up adopting the 5 year old.  Her name was already Jessica.

God speaks to us in many ways.  Sometimes we ourselves know in a mystical sort of way.  Oftentimes, others have the foresight that we may lack.  It may come to us through their voice.  Or through prayer.   Sometimes it comes directly to our door.  It is our job to listen.  To open the door.  And to pray that we recognize it when we see it.

That's it...from the juncture of our miraculous and everyday lives.