What is Our...

...response?

Every single day, we have the opportunity to respond. To one another, to a circumstance, to a miracle even.

The night was hard, crazy fast unravel hard. Traveling along, it had started with a pothole. On the phone with my father then, I watched my instrument panel's tire gauge plummet to zero. Lit up in red.

Dad, I've gotta run!? What's wrong, Julie? Nothing, it is fine (except it wasn't). Okay, bye, Dad.

I kept driving, my mind spinning. What can be so bad about driving on a flat tire ...well what else can I do?

Like the rest of my life sometimes, I just kept moving, driving. Thinking the alternative was less desirable or certainly problematic. Where would I get a tow truck? So I made it to the tire place, called my son, who said cheerfully that he would come. Except he hit the side of the garage backing up, to get on the road and then realize his car's brakes weren't working well. By the time he got to me, we were a good match for upset.

Stopping by my parents' house, I asked to borrow one of their cars, with my husband out of town. Sure, sure, yes, Julie, they said with a worried tone. Watching my father in the garage...his engine revved but wouldn't start.

Un (blanking) believable, I uttered under my breath, turning to my upset son, still in his car.

The next morning, I got a call from the nice man at the tire shop. I have some bad news, Julie...he went on to tell me that my tire had to be replaced.

And also, Julie, we found a bulge in your back left tire, a very, very dangerous thing.

He started in on the estimate, but I said excitedly....

...you mean if I hadn't hit the pothole, landing my car in your shop, that tire bulge could have gone undetected?

Yes, Julie, well yes.

Ah-ha, I said gleefully, the sucky situation had transformed into a bona fide golden miracle. A beauty to behold, a gift. The tire guy was a little confused, as I let out some happy woop woops.

And these moments are gorgeous. Right, my friends? The moment that we re-understand a situation, when our first translation of its meaning had fallen short of another purpose. Then it is right to peek through the door, at some cosmic thresh hold. Where we hear the flutter of angels' wings and see the sparkly glitter from their lashes.

Coming back to the moment, I hung up the phone. And I shared this miracle with some others, but then began to wonder...what is our response to a miracle?

We can do several things.

We can react with doubt...was the tire guy telling the truth, was there really a bulge, or was this just a dishonest ploy to sell more tires? Yes, this might be true, it happens.

Or we can flare up with fear...and pledge to never drive again, for there are dangers everywhere. Never, ever, am I going to get in a car again, with those rubber things that can snap in a moment!?!

But I would suggest that we might do something else.

We might bow at the altar of not understanding exactly how our days are humming...trust in the goodness of this universe, to hold us in the embrace of angels, even when we are stupefied, annoyed or full-out raging.

Yes we have the opportunity to respond to one another, minute by minute. And to bothersome tire situations, with hands raised in prayer and a resounding...

...thank you, thank you, thank you for the gift beyond my understanding.