Look At That Miracle In Front of You
How do we let this miracle almost always go unnoticed? How do we ignore the magnitude of momentary co-presence?
Take it in.
Like an equator-dweller seeing the aurora borealis for the first time.
Like an astronaut gasping at her first view of the big blue ball from beyond it.
Like a toddler discovering that cotton candy exists.
You’re witnessing a miracle.
Take it in.
That person you’re talking with (is it your co-worker, your classmate, your neighbor, a coffee date, a potential customer, your arch enemy, or your mom?) they are impossibly in front of you right now.
Despite it all.
After everything.
As the universe shows apparent disregard for probabilities and statistics.
They’re there with you.
They made it.
You made it.
You’re there together.
How do we let this miracle almost always go unnoticed? How do we ignore the magnitude of momentary co-presence?
You made it… even considering the incident and the aftermath. They made it… even after the trauma and the darkness.
Hope incarnate, the two of you must be. Miraculous existors and persistors; two shooting stars, burned and scarred after hurtling through infinite space-time to collide in this one instant fully with one another. To have been born and lived in this era and to have made it through life to this point and to have encountered one another with eyes open and hearts ready is a providence that must be sourced in love.
And no, you’re not perfect in this moment. But isn’t that the point? You’re distracted and bothered. You’re fearful and suspicious. You’re feeling guilty and resentful. You’re trying to get through the day. You’re surviving. You’re scratching and gripping and faking your pleasant demeanor. Both of you.
Of course you are. To have made it this far, through all you’ve each made it through is impossible. To have made it past the loss you’ve felt. To have healed enough from the pain others have inflicted. To have scaled your lives’ jagged mountains and to have emerged from the depths of your individual black abysses.
Considering all this, we should marvel at our proximal moments. We should behold our encounters with utter astonishment. We should passionately savor the blinding sweetness of our togetherness. We should worship the mysterious hand of wonder that ushers us near to one another, considering the magnitude of our improbability.
When estranged and traumatized twin brothers Jacob and Esau reunite in the old stories of Genesis, Jacob (who had actually just seen the face of God in an epic cosmic wrestling match) says to his brother…
“To see your face is like seeing the face of God…” (Genesis 33:10)
We are all infinituplet siblings separated at birth. Living, breathing, suffering fractals of Mother God, exploded forever away from one another and only by the irrational mathematics of chance and grace, reunited. We are estranged from one another, bewildered by one another, hurt by one another, and cast away from one another… and yet reunited right this instant.
Our reaction, of course, should be, “To see your face is like seeing the face of God!”
May we respond to one another accordingly. May we take each other in. May we revel in our miraculous co-presence and see God there looking back at us. Amen.
A BLESSING FOR YOUR WEEK
Loving God… Amaze us with each other! Astound us with the human capacity for survival despite it all! Help us revel in our miraculous co-presence. Help us marvel at the abilities of our neighbors to greet us each day. God, remind us that our reaction to every person we encounter should be, “To see your face is like seeing the face of God!” Amen.
QUESTIONS FOR CONTEMPLATION & DISCUSSION
1. When was the last time you were truly astonished by another person’s presence?
What made that moment feel sacred, improbable, or miraculous? How often do you slow down enough to notice moments like that?
2. Who in your life have you struggled to "take in"?
Is there someone whose presence you’ve overlooked, or whose story you haven’t allowed yourself to marvel at? What might it mean to see their face as “the face of God”?
3. What have you survived to arrive at this moment?
What pain, loss, or complexity have you moved through to be here now — and how does that shape your capacity to see others with compassion and awe?
4. How might your relationships change if you treated each encounter as a miracle?
What would shift — in your conversations, your posture, your tone, your presence — if you truly believed that showing up with someone was sacred?