On the subject of miracles

Believing in miracles is something that I don't do. Miracles happened in the Bible to tell stories. Stories were told in the Bible to teach us something and connect us under a common faith. There was a scientific reason the water turned to wine, or it was just a story. I didn't care which, because my faith has never been based on a literal interpretation of the Bible.

Someone recently commented on my spirituality or lack thereof. It is interesting to me that anyone feels they can judge how spiritual another person is or is not. To me, spirituality is a personal thing. Someone can comment on how unreligious I have become, but they have no idea about my spirituality.

It is all in the definitions of the words. I realized that when I started thinking about my momma and the miracle we seem to have been given. What I realized was that I had been defining the word much too narrowly. If I take a step back and look at a miracle as being given something that you didn't expect and didn't deserve, then my life becomes riddled with miracles.

My momma was not supposed to go into remission. Two months ago, she lay in a hospital bed, being sustained by a life support system, ovarian cancer taking over the spaces in her abdomen where she used to have ovaries and a uterus. Today, she is at home, taking care of herself and my father. She has been declared in remission. No cancer. Maybe next time, but right now, there is no cancer.

Maybe there is an explanation. Maybe there was something in their home in California that acted as a toxin. Maybe it took this long for the chemo to work. Maybe she ate some magic beans. I don't really care. I'm accepting that while there is most likely a medical explanation for what has happened, we will never know it, and I should accept that it is a miracle. It is something we didn't expect and didn't deserve. It is a gift.

As I sit in my music room, blogging here, there is another miracle. Lovely is sitting at our piano, playing her little heart out. "Jingle Bells" and other Christmas tunes are ringing out, along with her running commentary on whatever wrong notes she might hit. Having her for a stepdaughter is something I never expected and did nothing to deserve. She is a gift.

Most of the people in my life right now are miracles by my new definition. Guy of course. The timing of our finding each other had to have been a miracle. Loving his family like I do - miracle.

Boo and Pilot, miracles. Having them in our lives has been nothing short of one. She got me the gig with Dude, has been the best friend I've made in this town, and most amazingly, she has stood by me with unfailing loyalty. It's nothing I expected or deserved.

My students, all miracles. I have had so many changes and moves in my life the past couple of years, and they are still with me. It's certainly nothing I expected or deserved, so I deem them miracles as well. Their playing and determination is miraculous too, and I'm not just saying that for the brave one who reads these thoughts although she is definately one of the miracles in my life.

Finally, how on earth could I make it through this pregnancy without believing in miracles? Everytime I read an update on the changes in this baby from week to week, I am in awe of what is going on inside me. I am also completely freaked out by how very little control I have over it. Sure, there are medical explanations, and women have been having babies forever, but this is my miracle. Something I didn't expect. Something I didn't earn. Something I wanted so badly. Something I'm sharing with the other biggest miracle in my life, Guy.

But the biggest miracle of all is that my momma might actually get to know this grandchild after all. There is no better time than Christmas to be reminded of what you believe, why you believe it, and how faith never really dies.