Paying attention

We’re looking for the grand gesture and missing the invisible extraordinary

I’ve been thinking and writing a lot about miracles, and it has occurred to me in the process that our definition of miracle is at the same time too small and too big. We expect miracles to show us the hand of God. We want to see the invisible power dramatically made manifest. We want to see an angel. And yet, at the same time, there are miracles going on all around us all the time that are so much bigger than that, and yet so minuscule and commonplace that we barely think of them. We don’t notice, and in not seeing, we lose our faith. We think that God is not only invisible, but absent.

But that is only because we are not paying attention. We are focused on the far horizon, looking for the flights of angels. We’re not hearing the soft breathing of the big dog lying nearby. Because that breath, the movement of his lungs and heart, the blood that courses through his body, the liquid eyes that look into our faces searching for our love, that is all a miracle.

Think about it: right here, right now, as you read, you are experiencing a thousand miracles. The sun on your face; the insect crawling from a cocoon with colored wings: the plants around you creating food from sunlight, breathing in CO2 and breathing out oxygen (and corn sweat); the electricity powering your brain and beating heart; your skin forming a scab over this morning’s cut—so quickly and efficiently—while destroying invading bacteria; the bird that just flew past your window; the moss growing on a fallen log; the whirling speed of the earth as we fly through space around a sun that keeps our planet temperate. All the magnificent minutiae of biology, of cosmology, of atoms and chromosomes, of stars and galaxies. They are all miracles so immense we barely remember that they are there. They are not the grand gesture we look for, and yet they are far more magnificent than whatever supernatural air show we think we need.

So when we ask for a sign, what do you think is God’s response? I can imagine him slapping his forehead in frustration.

If your faith is tired, look around you. The signs are all there. You may not see their workings, but you can see their work. And that, I think, is the purpose of prayer: to make us stop and pay attention. Put down your phone. Look away from the news. Close your eyes. Breathe. Contemplate the miracle of this life on this earth. God is showing you his hand, and if you stop long enough to breathe, you will see it everywhere you look.

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It is difficult to look out and see the chaos around us. But we are not the only human beings in history who have lived through trying times, and although we are required to do what is right, adversity does not require us to live in abject misery. It’s essential to remind ourselves of the good things in the world, so I hope these posts provide a place of refuge for my readers. Only about 9 percent of you are paid subscribers. That’s okay, because times are hard, and there are many things to spend your money on. These posts will always be free. But if you find what I do is worth something to you, I hope you will consider a subscription. It’s about 27 cents a day for a little something to help lighten the mood. Less, if you subscribe annually. Come and hang out with me, the dogs, and this stalwart little community of good people.

Also: dog photos.

And now for your miraculous dog photo:

He’s sound asleep, and I can hear his soft breathing.