The Seattle School community is led by our alumni, who are pursuing bold work as thought leaders and provocateurs of change in their communities. So we were excited to see this blog from Master of Divinity alumna Ronna Detrick over on Patheos. Ronna writes about daring to believe that miracles are possible, wondering how that might change the way we live our day-to-day lives. You can read the original post here.

There is an old, old story told of a woman named Tabitha. (If you care to look, it shows up in the book of Acts in the New Testament.) It doesn’t have the best of beginnings:

She dies!

That is how it starts, but hardly how it ends. Her friends just are not okay with this and so they send for Peter to come and bring her back to life–which he does. He says, “Tabitha. Get up.” She opens her eyes, takes his hand, and is presented back to her community–the women who love her.

Truth be told, there’s a part of me (and probably you, as well) that struggles with this story because, well, she was resurrected! That seems too good to be true: some made-up story to make the “miracle worker” himself look better, an ancient version of the snake-oil salesman.

But what if we reserved such judgment and instead allowed the story in its entirety? Even more, what if we could/would allow her story to be ours?!

What if we allowed miracles into our consciousness, our everyday reality, our lives? Even more, what if we actually believed that we are one?

That just might change everything (which sounds a little like a miracle in and of itself)!

We’ve been conditioned to think of a miracle as something completely outside the realm of possibility. The parting of the Red Sea. Walking on water. The blind and lame healed. And yes, the dead raised to life. But…

What about the miracle that despite our grief and agony and depression and profound sadness, we still hope?

What about the miracle that despite relationships that bind and bruise, bend and break, we continue to live … and sometimes leave … and love?

What about the miracle of birth in its EVERY form?

What about the miracle of friendship?

What about the miracle that flowers die and the sun goes down and yet both will rise again and again and again?

What about the miracle of opening our eyes to one more day, to taking someone’s hand, to rising? (Just like Tabitha.)

That is phenomenal and anything but ordinary. That is extra-ordinary. That is who we are. Miracles–each and every one of us. Including you.

So the question remaining is simple:

If you will but allow that miracles do occur, more, that you actually are one, how then will you live?

Where have you hesitated, held back, and played it safe? Where have you not risked, feared misunderstanding, and stayed quiet? What have you not yet written, said, or done? What emotion, passion, idea, brilliance, heart have you not yet let out of the bag? What dance is yet within your bones and song within your lungs? All of these are yours to do, oh miraculous one. And believe me, I’m right there with you (along with Tabitha, of course).

May it be so.