Do Miracles Really Happen?

If you ever get the chance, catch the movie “Grand Canyon” – one of my favorites. Directed and produced by Lawrence Kasdan, the film is about six different residents of Los Angeles whose lives intertwine coincidentally, in ways that appear to be orchestrated by an invisible hand.   This movie was recommended to me as a modern-day religious experience, which, after seeing, I must agree.  Do the unexplained coincidences which happen to people represent today’s miracles?  Are we overlooking these unique circumstances somehow as just luck or good fortune?  I’ve always felt that to be a miracle, it must be extraordinary, like the parting of the red sea, but could today’s miracles be happening right in front of us, and we just aren’t recognizing them?

By definition, a miracle is something that occurs that is beyond natural explanation. An extraordinary event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs; an extremely outstanding or unusual event, thing, or accomplishment. (Merriam-Webster Dictionary)

I had such a circumstance happen to me and the utter coincidence of events that occurred generated an experience that still leaves me speechless.   While on RAGBRAI this past summer (my annual bicycle trek across Iowa), after a brief stop in yet another small Iowa town for food and drink,  I headed towards my bike to ride to the next location.  When I reached into my back bike jersey pocket to grab my baggie that contained my driver’s license, a credit card, and about $40 –  it was missing.

Did my baggie fall out of my back jersey pocket?  I retraced my steps and did not see it lying on the ground anywhere.  Did I leave it in the bar after I paid for my drink?   I asked the bartender – nowhere to be found.  I had several seasoned RAGBRAI riders reassure me that this type of thing- theft – does not happen on the ride and my items would be returned to me.  I got the “believe in the goodness of people” lecture.  I left the town on my bike, upset. It wasn’t that I had to replace my lost items, it was that I couldn’t rule out that they were stolen, that someone had reached into my jersey and lifted my items, and I felt sad about that.

That evening upon cycling into the host overnight town, I checked with the RAGBRAI lost and found – no items.  My faith in mankind was slowly shrinking.  I was becoming more and more certain that someone stole my ID and money.

The next night, upon rolling into town, I checked at the lost and found yet again.  The day had been long – I rode 70-miles against a hot head wind, and I was exhausted.  I had convinced myself my items would not be returned and I was right – nothing at the lost and found.  My husband had ridden ahead earlier to our campsite to set up the tent and join our team, and so, after leaving the lost and found, I jumped back on my bike, totally let down with humanity, and tried to find our campsite.  I was biking in the right general direction, but couldn’t find where our team was.

I lost it.  I had no cell service to call anyone, I was hot and tired, and I had no ID or money.  I stopped at an intersection and shed a few tears.  A gentleman in a reflector vest who was directing traffic came over, and asked me if I was okay.  I mentioned I was lost, and he assured me that the bus lot campground was just a 1/2 mile up the road.  I managed a weak smile, and justified my frazzled state by announcing that I had a long day, I lost my ID and I had no cell service.  We made a brief introduction and as it turns out, he was an ordained minister.   As I turned to leave, he grabbed my hand and asked if he could pray for me.  I figured I would take a prayer – it couldn’t hurt.  I thought he would pray for me when he returned home in the evening, but no – he prayed right then and there.  There we stood – a RAGBRAI volunteer who happened to be an ordained minister, and little old me, holding hands and praying in the middle of an intersection.  He was belting his prayer out-loud in front of god and everyone, asking for my items to be returned to me – no judgments made, no questions asked.  After the prayer, I said thanks, jumped on my bike and left.  I had no illusions that the prayer would be answered, but I appreciated his sentiment and that made me feel a little bit better.

I finally made it back to the camp site, and to our bus.  After my long day on the bike I was in desperate need of a shower, so my friend Keri and I decided to go get cleaned up.  We headed to the park up the road to the public showers.  They were getting ready to close for they day and we got the last shower time slot.  With only three shower stalls available and one already in use, we were in luck.  Two left open just for us.  We just made it.

While in the shower, Keri asked me for some shampoo, saying my name in the process.  All of the sudden, I hear someone say – “Robin?  Are you by any chance Robin Martin?”   I shouted yes and a woman shouted from the last shower stall –  “I have your stuff!”  I was absolutely dumbfounded.  I happened to be in the same shower area with the woman who found my baggie with my ID!  She found it laying on the ground outside of the bar we stopped at back in that little town a few days back.   I was in a state of disbelief – jumping up and down and celebrating.   When she invited me back to her campsite to retrieve my belongings, that’s when it got really weird – her bus was parked right next to ours.

What are the odds?  I lose my items, run into an ordained minister who prays out-loud for a safe return, I grab the last shower of the day using the last shower stall available, and I end up next to the woman who found my stuff two days ago AND her campsite is right next to ours. There were close to 8,000 cyclists staying in this relatively small town, and I ended up saddling right next to the woman who found my possessions.  Did this really just happen?

I felt saved, I felt vindicated – I felt so damn happy and so special.  This was my miracle – if there is such a thing.  It was as if the universe collaborated to have all these circumstances line up just right for me. What if we hadn’t of parked our bus in that exact spot?  What if I did not go up and take a shower that night?  And how odd that a volunteer, who happens to be an ordained minister, prays for the very same thing that happened a mere hour later?

I find profound meaning in what happened to me.  Maybe the divine communicates by pushing the boundaries of what is probable.  By shaking the fabric of my life, maybe it is just possible that “magic” happens – the energy in the universe comes together, the stars align, and all is right with the world.  Granted, this was no parting of the red sea, but this event gives me pause and now I am paying attention.  These random acts of kindness performed for me came together to create a masterful result – not only did I have my items returned to me – I found my faith in the human spirit restored.  I cannot think of a better reason to call it a miracle.

171759-Miracles-Can-Happen

 

Calling Card

My husband and I host a Tuesday night bike ride through the beautiful areas of the north shore of Chicago.   After our ride, we congregate at a local brewery for a post ride beer and good company.

On this particular Tuesday, a new couple rode with our group and hung out with us afterwards.  We hit it off – they both were funny, nice, and we seemed to have a lot in common.  As the evening was winding down,  I was about to turn to my new friend to ask for her name again and her contact information,  when I noticed a small decorative piece of cardboard sitting by my beer, which I thought was a coaster.  Turns out it was my new friends “calling card”.  The card was a small 2×2 piece of light cardboard that said “Hi, nice to meet you” and contained her cell number and email.  It struck me as so individualistic that she handed out calling cards in this day and age.  Just what was a calling card? I recognized the term, but realized I knew nothing about it.

Calling cards were prevalent in the Victorian age and necessary due to the social scene at the time.  Back in the day, it was perfectly fine to just drop by someone’s house for a chat. However, “dropping in” was nothing casual, there were only certain hours when women accepted callers, mostly in the afternoon.  Stopping by someone’s house did not mean you were let in right away.   Sometimes the visitor would present his card to the butler, who would then let you know if your sought after hostess was taking calls.  If she was not taking callers,  that’s where the card comes in – you leave it as a sign that you stopped by.

Calling cards were a custom, a concrete piece of evidence that you were interested in someone.  They were a memento left behind that was a little piece of yourself.  Cards were kept in beautiful cases and made from paper of the finest quality.  They were also very elegantly engraved.  Calling cards are historical lost pieces of art.

These cards were a handy way of recalling who had come to visit, and which calls needed to be returned.   To the cultured disciple of social law of the Victorian age,  it was a written form of communication that was the only choice people had to convey a subtle and unmistakable intelligence – there was no internet.  The texture of the paper, the  artistic calligraphy, and even the hour of leaving it placed the stranger whose name is on the card, even before his manners, conversation and face have been able to explain who he is.

What are our calling cards now?  What is our generations custom for reaching out?  I guess we “ping” people, whether it be a friend request on Facebook, or a chat on Instagram or Snapchat.   We ask people to “find us” on various digital outlets and in doing so put ourselves out there for the world to see – not just a select few that we choose.   There is a loss of intimacy this way – the effort is minimal compared to the creation of a calling card. Our profile that we create ends up being an opening up of ourselves to all, leaving little in the form of discretion, imagination and mystery.  To the world in 2017, a “calling card” is our digital footprint – snippets of our life through photos and unedited comments. Today we have a profile picture that we hope conveys what defines us, and one that we create in seconds and change daily.

Since that night of the bike ride, I have found myself looking at my new friends calling card, and enjoying the bit of mystery in it.  I didn’t have to scroll through my phone to find her, but rather I grabbed a small delicate note that said “Hi, nice to meet you”.   I keep the calling card in my wallet – it just makes me feel good.  It represents a timeless communication piece which took effort and thought in creating.  Her small gesture will always be a warm token of how we met.

4318620dde5f766e7abc66f81d6e7917

Change

A rolling stone gathers no moss, change is the law of life, progress is impossible without change, change is ongoing, the world changes, people change.  Mother Nature rolls over from one season to the next, babies are born, people die, life goes on.

I could spend hours talking about change and writing quotes about change – it is everywhere.  Then why don’t I feel like I am experiencing change anymore?  I am finding out in my fifties, job opportunities are not there like they used to be, people are retiring for more of the same, and life can become pretty monotonous.  Most of us have long-standing marriages, have been in the same jobs for quite some time, and our children have grown and moved on.

Change has now been replaced with status quo.

Status quo terrifies me.  It represents stagnation, no movement and just the same old thing.  Change is where it’s at and I firmly believe that change is necessary for vibrancy and to feel more connection with your life.  It helps to keep you young and current.  If change is not happening to me, then I am going to have to create that change.  How?  By working this list below – think of it as the 7 steps towards movement.

  1. Identify and understand what you want to change  – Get quiet, focus on yourself, and narrow down your “source” of what needs to change, what needs movement.
  2. Rid your life of negativity – When you wake up every day, repeat to yourself that you are thankful and grateful for this day.  Count your blessings using your toes – get through 10 each day.
  3. Exercise more often – Exercise dusts out the cobwebs every day and helps you to think more clearly.
  4. Be kind to others. This will make you love yourself more – trust me.
  5. Build a support network.  Having people to talk to and who support you is key.
  6. Eliminate the non-essentials.  Stop living in the weeds and get out in the air.
  7. Take baby steps.  Make a list – one small step at a time.Work these steps and change will happen.

change_is_hard_at_first_messy_in_the_middle_and_gorgeous_at_the_end