Crickets jingle jangle a melody in the early morning silence. A freight train rumbles down the track, from the east. It strikes a discordant note with the song the crickets sing. On the TV, I watch the frazzled face of Harry Dean Stanton in a movie where Harvey Keitel has the eyes of a television camera.
As the world spins, each of us falls through space at over one million miles an hour. We don’t feel it. We go cheerily along our way, most of us not cognizant of that amazing miracle God has given us. So many miracles we overlook every day of our lives – the air we breathe, the sites we see, the dreams we dream.
Some try to create their own miracles with their own actions. They seek thrills, through activities such as trying dangerous stunts, or putting pills in their bodies that cause them to hallucinate thrills. While parachuting or driving cars or diving off cliffs or manmade structures may create a real thrill, briefly, drugs only create manufactured thrills. The thrills are not real, and, at their most, are surreal. For real thrills, why not turn to worshiping God? Why not turn to doing good for others? Why not pause and meditate on the goodness and the miracles of God? Why not listen to a train going down a track in the early morning hours? Why not listen to the sad song of a whippoorwill or a cry of a mourning dove or the cheery chatter of mockingbirds? Why not look at the stars or the clear blue skies or the rain on a dark day and realize we can hold on to this Earth only through a miracle of our Creator?
Jacob's Ladder 