August 12: TERRIFIC, Another Miracle, Prayer for Everyday Miracles

Next morning, Wilbur arose and stood beneath the web.  He breathed the morning air into his lungs.  Drops of dew, catching the sun, made the web stand out clearly.  When Lurvy arrived with breakfast, there was the handsome pig, and over him, woven neatly in block letters, was the word TERRIFIC.  Another miracle.

Charlotte's Web is all about everyday miracles.  Dew in spiderwebs.  Spiders.  Fresh morning air.  Pigs.  E. B. White saw miracles in all these little things, and he was right.  The fact that spiders spin webs is amazing.  They aren't taught how to do it.  They just know somehow.  It's in their DNA.

This morning, it was raining and cold when I drove to work.  This evening, coming home, it was sunny and warm.  The leaves of the maple tree outside my window are flickering, like an ovation of light.  A miracle.  The problem with the world is that most people go around ignoring all the little amazements around them.

Of course, there are big miracles, too.  Cures from terminal illnesses.  People surviving airplane crashes.  The end of a war.  A good Jim Carrey movie (it might happen again!).  It's a matter of opening your eyes and looking around.

I know that I have been blessed in my life, but I tend to wallow in disappointments.  It's easier to do.  For instance, it is the end of the summer, right before the semester starts at the university.  The tax return money is quickly dwindling, and the bills are accumulating a little bit.  My wife went to an orthodontist appointment with my daughter today and found out how much my daughter's braces are going to cost.  All I can say is YOWZA!  We're going to have to put her braces off for about four or five months.

I'm in a terrible rut of negativity right now.  All I can see right now is what I don't have.  Like the money to get my daughter's teeth fixed.  Or a full-time teaching job at the university.  Or a publisher for my new poetry collection.  I need to focus on the small, everyday miracles of my life.  Reading Harry Potter to my son at night.  Seeing my daughter dance.  Reading a really great poem.

So, this week, I'm praying for everyday miracles.  Little blessings.  Spiderwebs gleaming in the morning sun.  Ice cream melting on my son's cheeks.  Republicans making idiots of themselves.

Saint Marty feels better already.

Open your eyes and look around