Every time you say "I can!"
when you’re struggling,
that is a miracle.
Remember when you thought you could be a superhero? Remember those days when a blanket tied around your neck was all you needed to be able to fly and stop bullets? Remember childhood days spent dreaming of the future when you'd be an astronaut, or a ball player, or up on the silver screen? Remember imagining a time when you'd be surrounded by friends and contentment?
When did we lose a fascination with those possibilities?
So maybe we were never going to be superheroes. Want and belief are not always enough to make our dreams happen. But when did we start being more defined by what we believe is NOT possible than by what we believe IS possible?
"I'm not strong enough for that."
"This is hopeless!"
"I could never do that."
It might not be rare for us to utter these phrases to ourselves. Yet it is rare to hear these kinds of phrases come from young mouths. The innocence of youth won't allow such defeatism. Instead, innocence allows the belief that great things are possible, that there is a lot of goodness in our world, that tomorrow could be better than today.
Couldn't we use some innocence today? Perhaps in listening to the hopefulness of children, we too can again be fascinated by the possibilities of tomorrow. Maybe we can again believe that people can be genuinely good. Maybe we can believe that a better world is possible, and we might see a glimpse of it tomorrow.
We believe that miracles are possible. We believe that new life can break out in situations where we once saw finality and death. It's what we celebrate at Easter. And we look forward to sharing some stories of life breaking out in situations of decline and death — of miracles happening — as the miracle of Easter approaches.
The world can be a much different place if we choose to live a bit more childlike. And we believe that together, through God's love, it can happen.
