When she recognized Peter’s voice, she was so overjoyed she ran back without opening it and exclaimed, “Peter is at the door!”
“You’re out of your mind,” they told her. When she kept insisting that it was so, they said, “It must be his angel.” Acts 12:13-14
Once again, these early church guys, the ones who walked and talked with Jesus for three long years and chockful of the Holy Spirit, still struggled with the same old issues I face each and every day.
Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.
It’s the same old thing that the people of Israel faced, the walking through the river while the wheels of Pharoh’s chariots twisted to a fallen standstill and the six-days-a-week manna from heaven folks, suffering from short-term memory loss every time the page flips.
What’s with that?
I was talking to Cousin Steve about miracles and what it is like to be in the middle of a big obvious one, like busted radius and ulna bones sliding back into place and raw flesh wrapping itself up smooth again without even a seam, and really, it’s just like Peter, it feels like a dream. Mundane day-to-day expectations has dulled my senses; I gobble my food, not even noticing the subtle seasoning mingled with the sustenance. And much like gobbled food, a moment on the lips, an eternity on the hips, it melts into the blob of the unconsidered life. I am not wanting to live there, while the waited for, but unexpected miracle waits pounding on the door.
So once again, as I click on the daily prayer list, let me enter into His presence with open eyes and a keen ear.
And a heart of gratitude. Because, really, of course, each moment is a miracle.
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