When we think of a miracle, we usually think of something improbable or impossible. We think of those extraordinary events like water into wine (one of our favorites); the inexplicable cure from a terminal disease, a blind person recovering sight, the Phillies winning, your kid listening the first time he or she is told to do something, beating the odds to win the lottery, St. Anthony finding a long lost something or other or, for me, drinking my coffee while it’s still hot, a minute alone in the bathroom, two minutes passing without the word “Mom”.
An ordinary miracle is when the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. One plus one equals a thousand. This is a perfect description of our eight year old daughter, Rosey. If her individual parts were for sale, they’d all be on the “as is” rack. Crossed eyes, short leg, missing septum pellucidum (Trust me you need a septum pellucidum…Google it!) leaks like sieve and talking with her is like playing a round of Mad Gab. Put them altogether and you have a miracle! Magical, holy, inspirational. But, just for the record, our ordinary miracle, Rosey, was also not expected to see or walk or talk. So she’s an extraordinary miracle as well. With her we did win the lottery. Blessing!