“There is no order of difficulty of miracles, they are all the same. All miracles are an expression of love.” -Course in Miracles
There are moments that demonstrate with crystal clarity that we are all hanging by a thread and that actually the fabric of our lives can unravel with just that- single thread in an instant. Last night as I watched my son being taken away in an ambulance, tied to a board with a neck collar, panicked, terrified and beyond recognition of himself, I was hanging on that thread. How had he fallen ten feet onto a concrete ledge with his head? What were he and his friends doing on school roofs instead of at the party I left him. All these were details in a fabric that was shredding.
On my racing drive over there, I chose love. I decided he would be fine, and except for brief moments where his pain and delirium became my own, I stayed with love. Serious head injuries can provoke aggressive, violent reactions. My son thrashed like a caged animal and fought people who were trying to help him. The only words that he could hear for brief moments at a time was my repeating chant, “I love you.” As we waited for the results of the CAT scan, I texted every friend I have who believed in anything and asked for their prayers. I only let myself think of the light that he is in the world.
Miracle of miracles, the scans were negative. No cracked skulls, no bleeding brains. Angels cushioned an inconceivable fall. Grace and relief at the results. Yet, even so Luke was still far from us and severe head trauma is unpredictable. I stayed with love and prayed to channel all the love that could pass through me to flow into him. I kept my hands on him all night. I gave him remedies. I prayed. Slowly he came back to himself; each time we would wake him, he remembered more and was more himself.
C.S. Lewis wrote, “Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.” They are everywhere, these miraculous, unexplainable moments of goodness in the midst of what could also be interpreted as terror. For me it is impossible to understand how you can be hanging by the thread of your life and not believe with all your heart in a life force that loves us.
I am convinced by nature and experience that the more you choose love as the energetic force that defines your reality, the more that love becomes substantial like a rock when times are most uncertain. Fear is a tempting substitute; perhaps more deeply hardwired in us than love. The shift is one of attention and focus. Choice becomes belief and belief becomes substantiated. The substance of your life starts with the choice of love.
When in the early morning hours he fully grasped what had happened and where we were, his eyes locked onto mine. Filling with tears simultaneously, he said, “So sorry mommy.” “Me too, Luke.” Thoreau once wrote, “Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other’s eyes for an instant?” No, I think not. There is only this moment we have in this fabric of a life we think is ours for keeps. The only sane response to it all is gratitude, full sweeping gratitude for accidents, angels, friends, prayer, miracles, and what it is all made of: love.
