By: Hettie Basil Lighttower
Last week we talked about that little-big word called life. We discussed how life is many things at different times while we experience consecutive trips around the sun called years. During our experience of life, we have ups and downs. I mentioned most of those descriptions of life were on the negative side and seemed derogatory about life. So, let’s lighten things up a bit. How about we talk about miracles and mystical occurrences.
I have had many of both in my life. I was sharing a then recent miracle many years ago with a friend whom I didn’t get to visit with or speak to very often. And after I joyfully described my experience, an inexplicable miracle, I asked, “What miracles have you experienced in your life?” He humbly replied, “I haven’t”. I said, “wait a minute, you mean you have NEVER experienced a miracle, EVER? Are you kidding me? Nothing in your life has been miraculous?” He said, “No. Nothing. I have never had a miracle. There is nothing that stands out that I can say was a miracle and that’s the only explanation for it”.
I was dumbfounded. I was also very sad suddenly. I was sad because he did not know the amazing feeling of receiving divine intervention that defies all logic or chances or possible outcomes. It was as if a wall came up between us and I was on one side with direct blessings from God Himself and he was on the other side in a place I was not familiar with and I couldn’t reach him or go where he was. He uttered being happy for me and he was glad I survived. It was only through divine protection and healing that I had. But he honestly could not celebrate nor understand the magnitude of my story. And the wall grew thicker.
I said I was going to lighten things up a bit, and that I will do. I needed to share with you a blatant example of not everyone experiences profound miraculous experiences. Or are possibly not wearing their spiritual glasses to recognize when miracles happen in their life. I would like to share a couple of my many miracle stories with you. It will be a different one than the one in reference above because that one is very long and will not fit here. But it is in my book soon to be published. The book is inclusive of and in great detail of all the many many miracles I or someone in my family or in my close circle have had bestowed.
Miracle for my granddad: It was WWII. He was in battle, a soldier in the Army. He became very sick and against his will he followed orders from his superior to be transported to sick bay. There they diagnosed him with double pneumonia. He would not return to battle anytime soon. He laid restless, trying to rest, ridden with guilt that war was on and while his battalion continued their duty, he was forced to rest and get better instead of manning his post. Time went by, he got well and was strong enough to go back. However, his release was delayed. “WHY??”, he asked. The officer replied, “We are still working on where to send you. You see, your entire battalion was wiped out and there were no survivors. So, we are waiting for orders as to where to send you.”
If that story wasn’t enough to impress you to believe and look for miracles, try this next one.
Miracle for my dad: It was a regular visit and my parents watched from the back porch while Grandma finished mowing her small level-laying backyard lawn. She enjoyed yardwork and tended to her flower beds religiously. She would join them momentarily, to partake in a sunny afternoon visit on the shady porch and pull up a chair to chat. As she came close to the porch with her last glides of the lawn mower an alarming clatter and ungodly sound of metal shrieked from the mower and a shiny butter knife hurled through the air at lightning speed. She followed it with her eyes as it in full velocity catapulted directly to the porch and instantly stuck into the paneling of the back wall of her back porch. The rounded end of the butter knife buried itself into the wood and the whole knife vibrated as if it had been deliberately thrown by a professional knife thrower doing his best in a competition of knife throwing and it stayed stuck in the wood. Just in front of the wood wall was a chair that my dad was sitting in. His ankle itched and he bent down to scratch his ankle or adjust his sock in the very second before the mower threw the knife. Had he not done that, the knife would have plunged directly into his chest most likely killing him through the heart.
These are only two examples of many miracles we have experienced in my family. I would love to hear about your stories. If you care to share, we can share with everyone if you would like. It is good to uplift each other and recall miracles and embrace the magic of divine intervention.
Send in your notions and comments to [email protected]. I will include them in the next available column as per their arrival relative to the publication deadline of Tuesday by 12 p.m. of the same week. If you wish to be anonymous let me know. Kindness is contagious~*