Life’s miracles often appear in diverse packages. A bunch of them take place in a flashing instant when you wish for them, others occur over a life span, and few more others occur when you are not even anticipating them. Regardless of the type, it cannot be denied that a miracle brings in us a wonder and an admiration at something unfathomable. A miracle that defines a wonderful accomplishment is what we all fancy to happen for ourselves. But what truly aids a miracle to come to life, in my opinion, are: first, faith in God and second, goodwill.


For years I have taken note on little and rather enormous miracles in my life and in the lives of people I have personally known or stumbled upon day after day. Since I started writing, I have been broadcasting life stories that depict miracles as I recognize them to countless souls through magazines and dailies. The stories were unequivocally spirit-uplifting. They were the sorts that offered a smile to a frowning face or inspiration to the heartbroken. Stories from everyday miracles. Inspirations from everyday stories.

One inspiring story that has etched a mark in me was about the miracles of the “flyday” night. I narrated the moments when most of the members of a Christian organization “fly”. No, they did not transform into horrible-winged-sci-fi creatures. Called Flyday night, the night when darkness quivered at the slight sight of light, and good triumphed over evil. Flyday night refers to a gathering of students, teachers and communities adoring Christ on a Friday night that knows no mercy for all legions of demons and the likes. That particular night I was invited brought so many miracles to so many devotees.

The life of Doods was the first miracle I heard. He was an unwanted child. His mother never planned for his coming and irrefutably attempted to abort him. He grew up without anything to call his own. Love was deprived of him just as happiness was insufficient to make his life as normal as the other kids around him. He could never forget how he silently rebelled for what he had gotten in a life he described as entirely miserable. Pain all to himself, he searched for satisfaction and found it among friends hooked on spending free time in school sniffing “powder”. If schooling was the reason he was sent by relatives miles away from home, for him it wasn’t so. He thought, with bitterness engulfing him, he was born to have fun with drugs and alcohol and no one has the power to stop him from having it all. No one was there to tell him he was moving fast towards a sure dead end.

Yet, there is, on occasion, an unutterable lose twirl to a tight spot that the human brain cannot comprehend even. What came next was Doods’ twist – the greatest and sudden miracle he could never forget, never dreamed of or wished for. He was tagged by a stranger to attend a healing seminar one flyday night. For someone who had been through a lot of pain, a cloud of doubt hovered over him. Prayer was not found in his vocabulary. Worst, he constantly questioned the existence of God. But that night became a perfect moment for one living soul. Standing in the midst of the assembly, he cried like a baby and asked for God’s forgiveness. He came out of church with an assured comfort and peace inside! No one and nothing stood stronger against God’s strength that night. It proved to him that real happiness laze not on entertainment and other creature comforts, but to God.

He found a sanctuary, no ground in nature, no place and dwelling of man could ever give. Years later, he entered the seminary and started a new life, taking his own flight to what he believes now is reality.

I have been a spectator to a number of God’s miracles in the past and almost always I feel the pulse to share them with people through my articles. I have been longing to articulate every opportunity that takes place in my life and hoping the articles will help inspire another. Each piece that I write I always hope to be a miracle at work.

It might be a little leap for a big hope. But if every leap, insignificant it may seem, will help others find in their lives their own share of God’s wonders, then doing so is worth the while. There is no coincidence. A miracle is a performance of God who chooses to stay anonymous.

Believe and share your miracles this coming Holy Week. Have a blessed break.

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