One of the Shabbat candles, the left one, was still burning on Saturday morning.
It’d been burning for over 10 hours. I know there’s a scientific explanation, but I chose to see it as unexplainable, a miracle. It was like the flame waited until I witnessed it, and then it went out.
They say you’re never supposed to leave a flame unattended, because, the flame could spread and cause destruction. My parents didn’t worry about that; when I was child, I remember the twin flames staying awake long after we did. The pulsating glow, a sense of protection over my unconscious body, as my soul departed for the night.
Lighting the Shabbat candles instilled my belief in miracles and every week I’m reminded to believe that they still exist.
As our world seems to grow darker, it’s crucial we continue to see the little miracles that happen each day and contribute to them; it’s how we’ll keep the lights on.
A couple of weeks ago, a paper butterfly (I have pinned to a wreath outside my front door) somehow found its way onto the leaf of the corn-plant in my living room. My girlfriend said, “Either the wind blew it in when you opened the door, or it’s your dead grandmother.” I choose to believe it’s a mix of both. That’s a miracle.
Or, what about the green glass, shaped like a stone, resting amidst the rocks in the courtyard of my office building, ‘strength’ etched on its surface. It seemed like it was waiting to catch my attention. That’s a miracle.
I could continue sharing the mysterious findings of my days, but I’d like to focus on the everyday miracles, the ones we so often overlook and take for granted:
I am able to move my fingers without pain.
I am able to see the sunrise and the sunset.
I am able to hear the birds having their morning conversations.
I am able to feel the air filling my lungs, unobstructed, and escaping through my nostrils, smoothly.
My daughters are blessed with good health and contagious smiles.
I am able to do what I love for a living and I have a beautiful home and a supportive family.
I am able to tie my own shoes and brush my own hair.
I am able to dance and spin and move my hips without limitations.
I am free to walk out of my front door anytime I want to.
What miracles these are!
Isn’t it a miracle that some survive illnesses that others do not?
Death is a miracle, too, I believe; we’re here and then we’re not, but never forgotten. We are mourned and missed. And if we choose, we leave a legacy of the miracles we created, to remind others of the miracles that remain.
It’s a miracle that we have the ability to change and mature. Forgiveness is a miracle. Forgiveness opens the gates for all of the miracles to be seen.
It’s a choice, to see our daily existence as a miracle in motion. That’s a miracle, too: that we’ve been given this ability to choose how we live our lives, how we think, how we feel and how we treat others.
The miracle of light is that one flame can create another flame without taking away from its own brightness. That’s also the miracle of life, of humanity: our individual flame can strengthen the flames of others without diminishing our own.
And, that’s the miracle I hope we can believe in most: that if we focus on our flame, tending to it, and sharing it with others, sharing our strengths, sharing the love we have for life and the precious lives around us, we will brighten this darkness, together. ~Rebecca