February 27: Web Itself, Blogging Miracle, Thanks for Safety

"Oh, no," said Dr. Dorian.  "I don't understand it.  But for that matter I don't understand how a spider learned to spin a web in the first place.  When the words appeared, everyone said they were a miracle.  But nobody pointed out that the web itself is a miracle."

Yes, I'm writing about everyday miracles again.  The fact that I'm sitting here, writing this post, is a miracle this evening.


When I woke up at 4 a.m., the wind was vicious.  I could barely see the house across the street.  The cold was even worse.  It was the kind of cold that makes the air in your nose and mouth sting like paper cuts.

My route to work takes me along a highway beside a good-sized inland lake.  As I was coming down U. S. 41 by this lake this morning, I drove into a wall of snow and wind.  I was blind.  I couldn't see more than a foot in front or behind me.  I kept my car rolling forward because I knew there were vehicles behind me.  Then, I ran into something.  A snow bank.  A guardrail.  Something.  I couldn't go forward, and I didn't want to go backward.

I sat there for a moment, trying to figure out what to do.  Then I saw trucks go by me, and I realized I was on the opposite side of the highway, heading straight for the lake, in the direct path of oncoming traffic.

I panicked.  I backed up, shifted my car into drive, and plowed back across the highway, using the passing trucks' taillights as my guides.  When I made it past the lake, I pulled into a gas station and stopped, hyperventilating.  I considered turning around and going home, but I didn't want to go by the lake again.  So I drove the remaining twelve miles to work.

When I was parked in the lot of the medical center, I got out of my car and surveyed the damage from my journey.  I had a flat tire.  It wasn't completely flat, but it was well on its way.

Now, I know, on the surface, this story doesn't sound miraculous.  But, as I've reflected on it during the day, the more miraculous it seemed.  First, I was headed straight for the lake, and something stopped my car.  Two, I was directly in the path of oncoming traffic, and I wasn't creamed by a car or truck.  Three, my Ford Freestyle didn't get stuck on a snow-clogged highway; it kept moving.  Four, I was able to drive to work in blizzard with 40-below windchills with a flat tire.  And, five, I'm alive, with all of my appendages, bones, and brain matter in working order.

I'm a walking, talking, blogging miracle today.

Saint Marty gives thanks for that.

Beware of lake ahead!