You know Scott, I’m not one to feel guilty. Unless I feel like I deserve it. Then I do feel guilt. So in this case, all I can discuss is how I see it.

And miracles happen. Not only that, miracles have happened to me. However, I have always operationally defined miracles into two categories: the first being inexplicable coincidences, and the other being an utter disregard to the laws of nature. I’m not saying that the second does not happen, I just don’t know if they happen as often. Or—perhaps more precisely said, they don’t happen as often (if ever) to me. And perhaps this is a reflection of me, or perhaps this is how God works. Either way, I’ve put God in a box—and I’ve come to realize that humans are incapable of otherwise. And in my box, God doesn’t seem to do a lot of the physics bending/breaking miracles. Why? I don’t know. Maybe they don’t work. (And by that I mean like saving a jar of Manna for the Israelites so that they could remember. I mean—think about it. We’ve got nutsos saying that the holocaust didn’t happen, and that was 70 years ago. You’ve gotta think that the same stupidity held true for some (if not many) of God’s own flock. What's that jar full of? I dunno--some stupid story. So maybe these nature-breaking miracles do not produce long-term human results? Just a dumb idea being thrown out there.)

But that of the other variety—the inexplicable coincidences—these seem to be present in my life. When I was a kid around between the age of 4 to 7, I had a dream of a place called Wheaton. I dreamt of a large hill without a lot of trees and a stone building. (This was weird for me at the time, as all hills that I was familiar with were wooded.) So when it was time to go to college, there was really no question in my mind. And when my parents said that I wasn’t smart enough to get in, their disbelief in me wasn't significantly bothersome. It was predestined. And as it turns out, I believe that building to be Blanchard Hall, and the hill to be Blanchard’s front lawn.

And one thing in which I am perpetually grateful is that God realizes that I am slow and dim-witted. As such, these divine messages are often as subtle as an iced snow ball to the face. One such example was when I took the GRE. At that point, I had graduated Wheaton early, and still unsure of what to do with my life. I had a degree in psychology, and a temporary dead end job selling electronics. So I had signed up to take the GRE, not knowing where it would take me—but that further education would take me there. So my testing center of choice was filled, thus forcing me to go to some Podunk school that I didn’t want to go to in the first place. And I get there, and was assigned to a desk in which to take the GRE. And on that desk was their school newspaper, weeks old at that time, opened to the page with a leading article about their SLP program. Ok—message received.

Or the time that my father had his cardiac surgery. That whole experience is best described as fine-tuned and highly orchestrated. Almost as if the path was already forged and established. Everything, down to the smallest detail, fell into place. Everything. Even down to the ideal care of our rabbits, which was a freakish last second event. And there have been others examples, but these are sufficient…

So when I detailed the accounts of my father’s situation to my non-practicing Jewish friend, his response was to agree that it was special. And to support me in my beliefs of the miraculous account. But his belief was that it was a fluke. And his explanation was that he’s an avid poker player, and that every now and then—the cards do amazing things. The cards had done amazing things. These are the miracles that take faith to recognize; albeit not very much to do so. Recognition of these occurances is a choice.

However, at least in my life (and those in which I know personally)—the law of nature-breaking parting of the red-sea type of miracles do not seem to happen. At least until Monday. The miracles produced have largely remained within the laws of nature. This isn’t to say that such things do not exist; they just haven’t existed with me. Till Monday. And as mentioned before, perhaps this is secondary to the box in which I put God—or perhaps it’s just not the way God chooses to roll these days.

So I don’t know if God shakes his head in disgust. I rather doubt that. I’m not sure how I feel; I think my response to the situation would have been similar. Shake my head in disbelief; search for common sense answers; not find any; scratch my head and wonder. Have a D'oh moment. Game over.

It just seems that, for whatever reason, God has moved away from the paradigm of the block-buster miracle. Maybe/Probably they still occur, but with less frequency or fanfare. And my guess is that this is secondary to the activation of the Holy Spirit; the one in which faith is required to recognize the action.