Mini-Miracles

by Kristjan B.

I got a daily devotional calendar from mom and dad this past Christmas. You know, like the Dilbert or Far Side ones where you peel away the previous day’s witty retort or cynical insight to reveal your next chortle. Only these ones are about inspiration…

I’ve never been very comfortable with open devotion or spiritual inspiration. I smiled and thanked mom and dad kindly (no kiss or hug like for a big gift) and thinking, “Now for the real gifts…” started digging under the tree like a schoolboy, without another thought about the calendar.

Turns out, it was the best gift of all. Can’t even remember the other ones right now. I’ll get back to you on that.

But a little talk at The Place on a recent Sunday (not the sermon, though it was great) got me reflecting on the little things. The mini-miracles. The stolen moments from other commitments and pressing engagements. The odd happenstances when the little neck hairs jump up and tingle and you know The Big Guy is saying something.

The moment hits you. And it can be easier to push it down. “I’ll deal with this later…maybe…” you think. And maybe you will. Not everyone does. Nor are you necessarily ready at the time.

…grade 5 art class and the teacher, whom I had the equivalent of a 10-year-old boy crush on with her resplendent, swollen belly asked me to whip up to the Zellers on Shelbourne for a can of black paint.

With vigour and freewheeling speed I pedalled my heart out wanting to impress, but missed the turn and tumbled out into traffic smacking my noggin on the blacktop; seeing a brilliant white light. I opened my eyes and was staring at the underside of a chrome bumper with a women crying on her knees next to me.

With embarrassment and not a word, I remounted and fulfilled my duty…carefully. Took me a long time to figure that one out.

…early years of university and feeling black and lonely, I visited my childhood church on a weekday, when I should have been doing something else. With no one around but the secretary, who smiled and recognized me but said nothing (though I hadn’t shown my face in ages), I wandered into the sanctuary and randomly chose a seat.

I noticed a Bible in front of me, directly in line with my sternum. I picked it up and flipped randomly to something in the Gospels, then simply read the passage where my eyes fell and was immediately awash in a message that spoke to me at that moment.

With a prayer and a smile, I replaced the Bible. Looking left and right, I noticed it was the only one in the pew. I smiled, thinking that's silly. Then, with an odd suspicion, stood and walked the length of the aisle checking the other pews. It was the only Bible in the whole church not carefully returned to its resting place on the shelf at the front.

…a couple of years ago, picking up some photos of a just-done motorbike trip, I parked next to a bike of the same make and model line as mine. Stopped to admire it (it had a larger displacement than mine), then walked in to get my photos.

When I came out, the rider of the other bike was admiring mine. “Nice bike…good brand…picking up photos of your last bike trip, eh? Me, too.” We had a good chat then exhanged business cards with personal numbers quickly written on the back.

He said, “I don’t usually do this,” meaning exchanging his actual business card without knowing me first. Turns out he was a cop and they are shy about letting on before getting to know you. But he had a good feeling about me. He’s one of my best friends, now.

The day after that little, non-sermon talk at The Place that got me thinking about mini-miracles, my daily devotional calendar had the following message: “Blessed are those who learn to see the finger of God in the conpsiracy of accidents that make up their daily lives; they shall be rewarded with daily miracles.” Ronald Rolheiser, 21st C.

Well, thanks Ronnie, and mom and dad, and Big Guy. That’s just what I needed. Oh, and that other gift? It was a shiny European football jersey. Just what I wanted, though I hadn’t asked, and mom and dad got their big-gift hug and kiss. But I bet they’d be more pleased with this story…I think I’ll tell them soon.