Christmas, miracles and all things possible

Do you believe in miracles?

I’ve read lots of theological definitions of a miracle but I think many of us might simply define a miracle as that which is unlikely, impossible or unexpected, but yet it happens. Being a country music fan, I was inspired by Joe Nichol’s song, “The Impossible.” In fact, I would say it’s a song about miracles. And these words from his song sum up my belief in miracles: “I’ve learned to never underestimate the impossible.”

People everywhere long for something. For better health, for improved self-image, for a happier and more satisfying life, for peace, for purpose, for security, for safety, ….

What miracle do you seek? Do you believe it’s obtainable?

The Bible offers some assurances. Matthew, Mark and Luke all wrote that “all things are possible with God.” I’m sure this trio saw the apparently impossible proved possible more than a few times.

Jesus told us faith can move mountains. Of course this kind of faith sounds like it requires belief that the impossible is truly possible before we can witness it.

Considering the virgin birth of Jesus itself gives us reason to think that what may seem to be miraculous and unbelievable can happen. Perhaps that’s why the Christmas season inspires my childlike enthusiasm that wishes can come true, that dreams can become realities, and that anything is possible.

The Bible is filled with accounts that stagger the imagination. Again and again good conquers evil, the incurable are healed, the impossible is proven possible. Biblical scholar, Mary Baker Eddy, wrote, “The so-called miracles contained in Holy Writ are neither supernatural nor preternatural; for God is good, and goodness is more natural than evil.”

Christmas fills my heart with hope and my soul with expectation. Believing anything is possible opens us to new ways of seeing – a change in our point of view. When the premise for our viewpoint has no limits, then strong is our faith, firm is our hope and great is our expectation.

We can begin by noticing what seem like everyday miracles. Look at the stars on a clear night. What could be more awe-inspiring than the fact that the universe exists – that you and I exist? That each of us must surely be here for a purpose?

What could be more incredible than the profound statement of hope written by Anne Frank in her diary from her hiding place in Nazi Germany: “In spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart”?

Many times in my life it’s been proven to me the impossible can become possible and the unlikely and unexpected can be naturally and assuredly experienced. That I could go to college even though I had no money and was uncertain how the tuition would get paid. That I could meet the man who would become my husband for 24 years and counting. That I could have a baby. That I could be freed of pain when medication didn’t work. That I could love and be happy where I live. My list could go on and on. I could write a book telling about all the “miracles” of my life. I bet you could, too.

If we open our eyes and deepen our perception, we will see miracles all around us. Albert Einstein says, “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”

Keeping my heart filled with hope and expectation, I will never underestimate the impossible again. Thanks, Joe Nichols, for your song of promise! As the French proverb says, “There are no miracles for those that have faith in them.” For those that believe, what seems impossible is possible!

Gratitude made these memories

by Annette Bridges

One Christmas long ago, I discovered a priceless treasure in giving the gift of gratitude. My family has a long tradition of watching Bing Crosby’s White Christmas on Christmas Eve, and a song from that movie, “Count Your Blessings,” is a holiday favorite. One line is for me a humble reminder of that Christmas more than three decades ago: “When your bank roll is getting small, just think of when you had none at all, and you’ll fall asleep, counting your blessings.”

I was 10 years old the Christmas of 1968. My mom and I were traveling west from Georgia to escape the wrath of my dad after their divorce. We had little money, no income, no home, few clothes and no toys, and we were separated from other relatives. We spent Christmas hiding out in a trailer park.

We got a tiny Christmas tree. We had no stand, but we found a way to hang the tree from the ceiling. We had no decorations, but we strung popcorn and made paper garland.

It may sound gloomy, but I often think back on Christmas 1968 as the best of my childhood. I think my mom would say the same. But why?

By all appearances, we were in danger. We were living in a perilous time in bleak conditions. And yet my memory of that Christmas is a peace-filled one and, yes, a joyous one. I can’t tell you what gifts I got, although I’m sure that my mom managed to put a few under the tree. But I can tell you this much: We were safe, we were happy, we were expectant of a brighter tomorrow, and we were grateful to be safe and together and to have the promise of a new day.

Christmastime in any age brings the promise of a new day, a new birth, just as it did centuries ago. But Christmas 1968 became the special memory that it is because of the gift of gratitude my mom and I gave each other. In everything we did, in every moment we spent together, we were grateful. We were grateful for present moments, and we were grateful for whatever tomorrow would bring. Gratitude helped us to see what was right in our lives instead of what was wrong. And now, every year, I’m reminded that Bing’s advice to count your blessings is a good one, and not just at Christmastime.

There is a hymn in the Christian Science Hymnal that speaks of a grateful heart. Three verses describe the grateful heart as a garden, a fortress and a temple. A grateful heart is a garden of comfort and peace that dispels anxiety and fear. A grateful heart is a fortress replacing feelings of helplessness and vulnerability with certainty and hope. A grateful heart is a temple of strength and courage that brings expectancy for better things.

Since Sept. 11, 2001, I have found that I give much more thought to what I am grateful for in my life, in my family, in my community, in my country. And I am finding that gratitude is moving me in directions I never considered before. Gratitude is shaping my decisions, my attitudes, my ideas, my actions, in ways that are more productive, more open, more unselfish. And gratitude is empowering me and inspiring me to look forward to each new day.

Try it. Give the gift of gratitude to yourself. And share gifts of gratitude with family and friends. They may be the most precious you give this year, and the most memorable.

Originally published in the Dallas Morning News, December 2002.  ©Annette Bridges. All rights reserved.