We are making waffles as the sun creeps over the mountain. Rather, it is my husband and our youngest who are whisking the batter. He is telling stories of his grandmother who lived on another mountain in another place and time.
The glow of the sky is moving from a misty, blue gray to pulsing pink. As I ruminate, the coffee brews. My mug cups steaming liquid, as my fingers fold around its curves.
Moments like these — although mundane — are nothing short of a miracle.
The days are difficult. Spread of this highly infectious virus slams our region at almost 35% positivity rate, climbing over the last week. Daily updates feel like defeat, while needful to keep us aware. Our children are receiving virtual instruction as their health care worker parents keep plowing against a growing weight.
Grandmothers are nothing short of a miracle. That one of them already has a first dose of vaccine is a miracle. She will supervise virtual learning this week to allow both of us to go to work. Another grandmother made an apron for Christmas for our youngest. Happily, she wears it to feel her grandmother’s love.
Mundane moments are nothing short of a miracle.
In a tumultuous time for our republic, we see the mettle of our leaders, the substance of our neighbors and the transitions ahead of us.
Nothing is insurmountable. Not with the grace of God. All things are possible for God. That a camel can move through the eye of a needle. That a baby can be born and his parents flee to Egypt and hide in plain sight for four years. That a face mask could help save one life and reduce the burden of our front-line workers. Yes, all things are possible.
Immediately before Jesus talked with his friends about a rich man entering God’s household and economy, he taught about two other topics: marriage and children. The undergirding theme of all three small passages is an awareness of choice and grace. To choose to make space for a child to come to the Teacher. The choice to grow into the largeness and fullness of marriage. A decision to live into the Great Reversal, the re-creating work of God.
Yes, the miracle is this minute. This minute at bathside with our youngest as she pretends to swim. This miracle moment as you hold pages of newsprint between your fingers. This moment now, as you click and scroll and breathe and recall and think.
It’s nothing short.
Longing to breathe deeply and to walk with others as they seek to meet their longings, C. A. Rollins writes and invites you to reflect with her at email@example.com.