A Bucket List Lesson: adding miracle-seeking to our daily life goals

Eliot ran into the kitchen with his hand over his heart as I finished washing the dishes.

“Mom, you’ve GOT to see this! It made my heart cry, because I’m so happy.”

We all met in the office, where Travis pulled up a video of someone “hunting” the aurora borealis, the northern lights.

We watched as the screen glowed vibrant green, pink, purple, and yellow.

We saw an item added to our four-year-old’s life bucket list, a future dream to see those lights in reality someday.

It is clear to me, watching through the eyes of my children for even a moment, that we are surrounded by miracles.

The very fact that we breathe is a miracle;

the rhythm of our feet walking on the grass;

the birds who build their nests in the heights and the chipmunks who burrow beneath us-

we co-exist with miracles, great and small.

But we are taught from an early age to reserve miracle-talk for special occasions, like resurrection or the homeless stranger who speaks truth to us in the dark of night, who could in fact have been an angel.

We miss the full spectrum of life, the greatest to the least.

We miss the chance to see the world new again just because we are alive today to see it.

Isaiah, my 3 year old, fights dragons inside his head from the moment he wakes, singing the theme song from Bob the Builder as he zooms his trucks through the dirt in our front yard. His imagination is a miracle.

So in preserving our children’s childhood imagination, we preserve their God-given ability to be miracle-seekers, and on other days, miracle-makers.

We are not without wonder, even in a world so full of hate; our children teach us that if our imaginations stay alive in us well into adulthood, we have then power to create something good, to see the undercurrent of life taking place around us.

And we are humbled again, taught by the children we teach, given instruction on how to be more human, more loving, more in awe of every aspect of our lives.

I notice that on my worst days, I miss what is important to me– quiet moments, real-life conversations, small wonders.

Maybe as adults we need to re-write our own bucket lists, adding MIRACLES to the top, so that the vision stays with us, speaks with us, haunts us and reminds us that we have the ability to make life sweeter right now, and tomorrow, and all those long days after.

And if you need a little inspiration right now, join Eliot in admiring this miracle, and maybe making a point to see it one day: