Sixteen hours later I could not take it any longer. My world was crashing, what had started as excitement had become an Atlas size weight, threatening to crush me. My heart was was choking me with concern for my wife and my unborn child.
Walking out the front door of the hospital, my strength shattered into so many pieces, I cried out for relief. Within an hour my son was born. Six years later, ever time I pull him close and inhale the scent of his hair, it is a sweet perfume that reminds me of the miracles I have been provided.
Many times its easy to see the miracles in our lives when we look back, but why is it that they don't seem readily apparent in the present? Is it that we rarely attempt much that would require divine intervention, settling for a mundane life where we can control the outcome? The thought of being dependant on anything beyond what we can control can be intimidating. Is it our preconceived expectations of what the miracle should be, that keep us from seeing the fingerprints that have been left on our life? Or maybe we have lost perspective and succumbed to the reality we find ourselves in.
A line from Hey Nostradamus! has stuck with me..."God is nowhere, God is now here." The difference between the two is vast, but on paper it comes down to a space. Maybe we just have not created the space in our lives for miracles to happen, or to see God.
Inspired by "I saw God today" by George Straight, caught a snippet while scanning the radio today.