Someone asked if I believe in miracles.
Of course I do.
How can I not when everything I am, everything I have, and everything I am becoming and having is a miracle? How can I not when life itself is a gift?
When my lips are tightly tied together, all the light that I have absorbed from the sun, the moon, and the galaxies shines through my eyes.
When I bury myself to work and I lose count of time, my stomach growls to remind me to take care of myself. When I get close to stretching myself too far, the sun sets to remind me to rest.
When I am lying on my bed in the darkest of nights, underneath this skin and beyond the flesh and the bones, an organ that I own but have never seen or touched keeps on pumping blood to remind me that there is a chance for bright days.
When I fail to see the beauty of mornings, the flowers open their faces, birds sings, and the sun lights the way. When the fire within me is almost dying, the universe sends me people who add fuel to it. When I can’t see beyond my feet, the moon appears and lights my way.
How can I not believe in miracles?
Do you believe in miracles? You are a miracle already.
How are you today?
Have you read this post? You should.
If you are feeling lonely and abandoned, you should read this post.