Why don’t we see miracles in our lives like the ancients did?  Where is God?  If He’s really there, shouldn’t we see some evidence?

Since Henry’s death, I am meeting God in new ways everyday.  It is miraculous and life changing.  It feels like He is giving me clues along a path to help me find my way.  His provision is showing itself in everyday things.  I am seeing miracles all around me.  Maybe they are just coincidence.  But then again, maybe they are not.  Maybe they are more than coincidence.

Just a few weeks after Henry’s death I went to the Florida Caverns to see my sister.  We decided to meet there and tour the caverns together.  I cried the whole drive there.  What was I going to do?  My beautiful, spunky, babbling, intelligent, independent, and wild haired little boy was gone.  He was the light of my life, and that light had been unfairly snuffed out.  It was fitting that I was going to a cavern because I felt lost in the dark.  Where was God?

At the state park, a volunteer guide took us through the caverns.  He told us about the history of the caverns and the forces that created them.  In one room he showed us a strong pillar that formed when a stalactite had merged with a stalagmite.  The pillar had been broken from a traumatic natural event.  He said that we are like that pillar – how things that took so long to form in our lives – relationships, love, and community – are sometimes broken through a traumatic event.  In the next room, he showed us a tree root that had grown down deep into one of the formations.  He explained how each of us can have a root of bitterness that grows into our lives.  In the final room, he showed us just how dark the caverns are in their natural state.  He turned off the lights and we were lost in total darkness.  The darkness was complete and overpowering.  There was no natural light.  Our eyes never adjusted.  He explained that the CCC had excavated the caverns in the 1930s.  The men who did the original excavation work in the caverns used primitive carbide lamps.  The lamps were unreliable and often went out.  To make sure that they were never lost, the men tied themselves to the central cornerstone of the room.  When their lamps inevitably burned out, they would not be lost because they could follow the rope back to the cornerstone and find their way out of the cavern.  He explained how we can also become lost in the darkness of pain and sorrow, but if we are tied to the cornerstone of Jesus we will never lose our way.  It was as if he was speaking directly to me.

After the tour, I thanked him for his words and, amid sobs, told him that Henry had just died.  He reached out and hugged me.  He told me he was just a volunteer at the caverns.  He was a missionary overseas and was only in the U.S. for a short time.  He wasn’t leading every tour that day, he had just happened to lead the tour I was on.

Later that night, I was telling Sarah about it, outside under a cloud of stars.  The Milky Way was so bright; it looked like we could touch it.

“I think God is going to take care of us.”  I said.  “I think we can make it.”  “God, please show us that you are here.  Show us right now, that you are with us.”

“Look!”  Sarah shouted, pointing up.  I looked up to see a shooting star streaking across the sky; the only one we saw that night.  Unlike the meteors we had seen during the Perseid meteor shower a week earlier, this meteor was brilliant and bright.  Its arc was slow and it lit up the night sky.  It lasted long enough for us to trace it across the sky and watch it fall into the horizon.

Maybe these are just coincidences.  But maybe, miracles do occur today.  Maybe God is leaving a trail of breadcrumbs leading us to Him.  Maybe miracles are everywhere around us if we are willing to see them.