When I decided to leave my missionary journey, one of the first things my mom asked me was, “Have you seen any miracle?” One of the things that impressed her so much from the missionaries’ stories was the story of miracles. She had hoped that I would see at least one miracle. I’d only been there for less that a couple of months, and half of the time I was there I had been constantly sick and in pain. I had not raised a dead man back to life, or purified the heart of a village witch, or been seen guided by a big white angel.
But when I was asked about miracles, I thought of the weekends in mid-February in 2008. At that time I was involved in Indonesian students’ activities in Singapore, and one of the big events we had was an intercollegiate sports competition. There were plenty of problems, of course, but the one problem that really worried me was one that I knew I had no power to control, that of nature. In those months, Singapore had been showered by heavy rains. The rainy days in Singapore were usually unpredictable, but when it occurred practically everyday like in February 2008, it became predictable — it rained everyday. And to have sports competition in the outdoor, with some performances to boot, rain would be a big hindrance. Think how we should carry those big and heavy loud speakers under pouring rains to safety!
However no one (normally) orders nature around. So I looked to one who has powers over all the earth. I asked my friends in the Christian fellowship to pray. I asked everyone in the committee to pray. It was my weekly request for months. Yet, it kept raining almost everyday, and in the days leading up to the D-day, it rained EVERY-day. Miraculously, when D-day came, it did not rain, not a single drop. It was a hot and sunny day! In fact, in the only two weekends that we held the sports competition, it did not rain at all. All the other days rained. I was so glad that I emailed everyone in the committee saying that from now on whenever I see the rain, I would think of this day. I did not, of course. But when I thought of miracles, I thought of those miraculous weekends, the only hot and sunny weekends out of the days of rain.
I’ve seen other miracles, too. To me, it was a miracle that we had a successful SMUKI’s first musical production back in 2007, especially when I thought of all the conflicts, inexperience, immaturity and me breaking down just five days before the show. Well, it was probably a miracle too that of all universities I ended up in SMU. It was a miracle that I survived ninth grade. It was a miracle when I saw children without legs and arms actually danced. It was a miracle when the community service project to Aceh I was involved in received thousands of dollars of donation just within three days before our departure day, really saving us from the red. It was a miracle when I decided to turn left instead of the usual right and was pleasantly surprised by the decision. It was a miracle when I accidentally met my best friend, had an unplanned lunch, and realized that it was probably one of our last meetings on earth.
I did not see resurrection from the dead or angels holding my feet when I could not take another step during the time I was on that missionary campus. But I did not faint as many thought I would when my team got lost in the jungle. I had my friends held my hands when I could not walk and supported me on their shoulders when my legs were about to give away. These were not conventional miracles, but that was my resurrection and they are my angels. I indeed saw miracles, unnoticed as they may seem to be to most people.
And I think, we all see miracles in our lives — the small, unnoticed miracles. Even our existence is a miracle. Out of millions of sperms and hundreds of eggs, out of the many combination of couple there could be on earth, here we are, genetically unique.
-me-
Jakarta, Saturday, 3 September 2011, 2:34AM.
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