I Know Miracle

I already know miracle.


I came across those words this morning in my readings. I started out reading’s Miroslav Volf’s A Public Faith. A man I have known for a very long time commented over coffee recently that he was pleased to hear me say before God and everyone gathered at a library event that I am a woman of faith.

There are some who wrongly mistake remarks like that to be some sort of braggart statement. It’s not. For me, talking about being a person of faith is like saying I’m married to my college sweetheart, or that I’m the mother of four grown kids, or a grandmother-to-be, or a Beaver Believer. It’s a way to define myself that tells you a bit of my history, what shapes me, what compels me, what I value, what I aspire to, and what I have failed at, time and time again.

A book reviewer for a big city newspaper ended her critique of my current book with this statement: Clearly, the author is a devout Christian, but her religious references will definitely turn off any non-believers.

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