Coping with a Miracle

Written May 17^th, 2010 (a week after the fall)

I feel like it's my fault. I sensed she was scared and uncomfortable, but neglected it and allowed us to push forward. I knew it was dangerous, but I didn't seriously think and consider the risk of our falling and the result, a result which is now a reality. I made so many mistakes - we should not have been climbing that high in that position, I should have been climbing first, I should have turned us back.

There is immense guilt. Guilt which is not affirmed or encouraged by anyone but me. I don't want to let go of this guilt, for fear that I will fail to learn from this experience, from this miracle. For fear that I won't understand the consequences and the seriousness of the reality of our dangerous position, our critically injured condition, and our miraculously preserved livelihood. I know that guilt can give the devil power to damage and destroy, in which case I hope that there I have contrition - the difference being whom one brings there thoughts and prayers to, either themselves or God.

I have been labeled a hero. I am no hero. I don't know what it means to be a hero. If a hero is someone that does what needs to be done when it is necessary, then I am not a hero. I salvaged my mistake of failing to be a hero and turn us back earlier. If a hero is someone acts on what God has naturally gifted them with, and what that person has pushed and grown to be, then there isn't much more heroism to me than many others. I don't think I particularly saved Nadine's life, I did what I thought needed to be done when it was done - I fought the black, sleepy dimness that sought to take over my consciousness, I pushed through pain of what felt like a broken leg, I stayed calm, I kept Nadine awake and talking, I problem solved amongst people with no emergency awareness or common sense, and some other details. Maybe that makes a hero, maybe it doesn't, I'm not to judge. Only the things which align with Christ make a hero.

I am a little thankful for that incident because now, when I hear tragic stories where great feats are accomplished and I ask myself, "Would I be able to do that? Am I strong enough? I wish I possessed that strength." Now, I can confidently say that I can, and I did. But would I trade this recently gifted confidence for Nadine's health and the memories of the fall and her painful cries? Yes.

But the fact is that we did fall, we are both alive, I helped, but God saved us. We are living miracles by man's standards. What does that mean for me? A large part of me says that nothing about this incident is any more miraculous than the breath of a poor man, or the flutter of a butterfly, or the growth of a tree and the falling of it's fruit. Nevertheless, the only way to describe the tragic reality of the incident so that others understand, is to label it as a "miracle."

Have I forgotten what a miracle is? Or has humanity forgotten what a miracle is? Which one is the perspective of Christ? He said he would preform signs and wonders and miracles; but he also said faith like a mustard seed could uproot a tree and replant it in a sea. Divine intervention is real; does it happen all around in every single moment? Or is it only when the physically, statistically, and expected effects are altered by God should a miracle be proclaimed?

Maybe there is something miraculous in the constant, seemingly mundane events like the sun's rising, but I also can't deny that there is something extra miraculous, spectacular, and significant - deserving of a specific label such as 'miracle' - when the laws that we humans study, live, and believe in are stretched by the divine. God must have designed to think and recognized the difference. Or maybe sin has skewed our true vision, skewed us and so we form labels and boxes which don't ultimately exist to God, but currently controls we humans. Can I now say: Therefore, part of joining in His personhood, His divinity, is realizing that those boxes and labels are not eternal realities, only temporaries. Jesus knew and understood the definition of human 'miracles', but lived in the true reality and knowledge that a tree has no real rule about where it can be planted and uprooted.

What should my perspective be? What should my action then be?

I feel like I "should" be more grateful for everyday. I think it makes sense that the air would seem fresher, and I would be more thankful for every waking moment, even more than I was before. But right now I don't. Is there something wrong? What am I missing? I have justified that it is fine and true for me, as a human, to understand that I have experienced a miracle. But I also think that a "miracle" in our terms doesn't quite match up with the eternal reality of God, but only with his finite creation of humanities reality. So where am I? Stuck in the middle?

Do I think my/our survival means that we are destined for great things? Yes. Do I think that before, we were destined great things? Yes. What do I do? How is the "why am I still alive" connected with the "what do I now do?"