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The Miracle Chase
“If you’re seeking a sign to believe again, The Miracle Chase will open your eyes and heart to the wonder all around you.”
Regina Brett,
author of God Never Blinks: 50 Lessons for Life's Little Detours
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It's About Friendship
It's About Survival
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that women saints were way more likely than men to have experienced the accoutrements (stigmata, ecstacsies,and visions) of miracles! 
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Beginning Again in Love - Meb

by Miracle Chasers on 01/22/17

 We are beginning again. A new year. A new president. For  some, new babies, newly wedded couples, new homes. As a way to symbolically bring in the New Year, I decided to go to an event where I expected there would be some type of ritual to support letting go and moving on. In my straight-backed chair, I waited to be led in some kind of "good riddance" activity that would leave me at least a little more hopeful about 2017. Then, an energetic man stood on the stage and got everyone up and out of their seats to "shake off the old" by using a traditional Qui Gong exercise. We started with shaking out our hands, then shaking our arms, then shoulders, and finally, we shook out our whole bodies. At this point, I could feel the energy in the room shift palpably. Within me, a kind of buzzing sense of connection of my Self to myself that I wasn't aware I had been missing started to happen and I began to feel a connection to all the other 'movers and shakers' in the room as well. When we finally stopped, we stood quietly, together, renewed.

          The end of the year is predictably hard for me as it brings up other endings: the end of my marriage, the children moving out of the house, the absence of loved ones who no longer sit around our holiday table. Imperfectly, and unfortunately, also, somewhat predictably, I respond to the season with less than my best self and I did this again this year. So, as I shook off last year in the room with all those people I had yet to meet, I also shook off regret. I shook off cynicism. I shook off disappointment. I shook off isolation.

          I felt very silly shaking myself all around like a child doing the Hokey Pokey - at least at first- but that was part of the ritual's beauty. By choosing to participate, I was being vulnerable, I was doing something outside my comfort level in the company of strangers. I guess that being vulnerable meant that my protective armor got "chinked." Miraculously, nothing short of Love, with a sprinkling of Hope, seeped in through the cracks. In Love, I forgave myself for messing up. For a short moment I was able to forgive others. This perfect peace was fleeting - clearly, I have much more work to do on myself and on Forgiveness. But I say it's a "Happy New Year." At least it's a very good start. 

On Christmas Past - Katie

by Miracle Chasers on 12/11/16

       When I was growing up, we opened our presents on Christmas Eve, but not before my father pulled out the Bible - which had gathered dust for the previous twelve months - to read Luke, 2:1-20. "And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus..." This decree required Joseph and Mary to travel, and hence, for Mary to give birth in a manger when there was no room at the inn. In this way, each and every year, my father reminded us of the story of the first Christmas, and that its meaning was beyond our brightly lit tree and the gifts I couldn't wait to open underneath it. I loved the Thanksgiving feast we recreated the next day for Christmas dinner and relished the carols I knew by heart, sung round the family piano as my mother played.

          There may not have been peace on earth, but in a raucous, imperfect family of seven, there always seemed to be peace and goodwill in our home for those holidays. Our traditions created a certain magic for me, a Christmas spirit that ignited a lifetime pursuit of the feelings evoked in an atmosphere of giving and joy and shared with the people I loved. Squabbling and worries were set aside and we managed to become our best selves - at least until December 26th. I still measure each of us by our highest common denominator, the joyful givers we became at Christmas time.

          My experience isn't unique if literature, film and history are any indication. O. Henry's short story, The Gift of The Magi, is about the young, destitute couple who each sell their one prized possession to buy the other a gift, not realizing the sacrifice the other is about to make. He sells his gold pocket watch in order to buy her combs for her hair and she sells her hair in order to buy him a chain for his pocket watch. Or, who doesn't love the story of George Bailey in It's a Wonderful Life? In embodying his own best self throughout the year, he changed the stars for countless others. And then, there's the story during World War I when some English and German soldiers laid down their guns on Christmas, 1914 to sing carols and allow for the gathering of their dead. We have the capacity to rise to a spirit of generosity that is especially manifested at this time of year.

          Our family Christmases, as I'd known them, came to an end when my father died nearly thirty-three years ago. The house that accommodated us all had to be sold and my siblings began to scatter out of state. In time, I was able to look back and appreciate what we had and realize why Christmas is so important to me. Those festive, spiritual and connected days became the bar I set for a lifetime. I can still hear my father's strong voice as he quotes the angel in Luke's gospel, "Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy,which shall be to all the people," a message of hope that Someone has come to show us the way. (Katie)

Grateful Heart - Joan

by Miracle Chasers on 11/20/16

              The grateful heart sits at a continuous feast. Proverbs 15:15

             When I was young, I didn't think much about gratitude. All I wanted was to be tall, blonde and own a real Barbie (instead of a knockoff), none of which, BTW, ever occurred. Fortunately as an adult, I have spent a lot more time being grateful; maybe it's because I'm making up for lost time or maybe it's because my birthday is closely tied to Thanksgiving. And, it's my favorite holiday. After all Thanksgiving is all about celebrating with those you love, creating a meal together and taking the time to appreciate the myriad of gifts that surround us. What could be better than that?

          For me, first up on my gratefulness list, having survived a diagnosis of cancer, is the gift of being alive. It's a challenge each day to live life to the fullest; to feel lucky each morning to be able to get up and face the day ahead. It is a great responsibility to cherish and appreciate the life we have been given and to make the most of our time here on Earth. I think about the things so many of us take for granted: being able to see as we walk down the hallway, the actual ability to walk down the hallway...driving a car, having a car to drive...cooking a meal, having food to cook, a place to cook it and a spot where it can be enjoyed. Little things are more meaningful now as the years have gone by: a child's note of thanks, a call to say hello, an unexpected card or email, a new amusing nickname by a friend, the beauty of a rainbow, a super-moon, a garden in bloom or one settling in for a long winter. Maybe, I'm getting soft (or old!), but each of these experiences touches my soul and brings joy. I think Henry Ward Beecher was right when he said, "Gratitude is the fairest blossom which springs from the soul."

          There is a joke in our family started years ago after the birth of our first child, (who, like me, arrived within a day of Thanksgiving.) I was overwhelmed by the number of thoughtful bouquets I received and my sister-in-law explained there were two things you could never have too many of: flowers or diamonds. Today, I would add gratitude to that list.

          I was reminded of the Rolling Stones' lyric that I always loved, "You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometime you find, you get what you need," in a story a dear friend shared after she lost her aged mother last year at this time. While she was happy that her mom was at peace, she missed her; it would be their first Thanksgiving apart. Trolling around our neighborhood thrift shop a few weeks later, she found an old Christmas ornament, the kind from our childhood, delicate glass with sparkly inserts. When she saw it, she knew the silver was perfect for her holiday table. She had no idea what the red bell that was also inside the package was, but figured it could always be tossed aside - a freebie as part of her $0.50 investment. Imagine her surprise when she got home and opened the package to realize that Grandma, her children's name for her sweet mother, was actually written on the bell; a connection, a realization that sometimes things happen that are meant to bring a smile and a knowledge that though there is sadness in the world, we all have much to be grateful for. This Thanksgiving as I travel to the home of the Pilgrims in Massachusetts, I will exercise my tolerance and love for each other, even blessing the turkeys among us! (Joan)

Don't Be Afraid of the Dark - Meb

by Miracle Chasers on 10/30/16

          October is the month of Hallowed Evening or Holy Evening - Halloween. While largely commercialized as an American holiday, Halloween, as we call it, is grounded in tradition from a variety of cultures. In the Christian tradition, the 'hallowed evening' started as the end of a three-day festival that honored the saints, the martyrs and the dead. In the ancient Celtic world, Halloween originated from the Gaelic Samhain harvest festival. Samhain means "summer's end" in Old Irish. There was a period of time in Ireland, when all the children dressed up, not as witches, ghosts, pirates and princesses, but as street urchins, not to beg for treats, but to get any food at all. And anyone who has lived in California for any length of time comes to appreciate the art, if not the sentiment behind the tradition of the Mexican Day of the Dead on November 1st.

          I love the tradition, but I'm a little beyond helping my kids dress up for Halloween and don't have any grandchildren yet who will be out and  about this year. Lately, the early darkness and the chill in the evening air has me thinking more about the Hallowed Evening and wondering if the old tradition of celebrating the mysteries of passing over to the world beyond isn't a really important thing to do. I think about friends and family who have died this last year and those friends who are so ill they could die - and of course, my own mortality. For some, this is scary thinking. But as I've gotten older, I've learned that the "veil between the worlds" is thinner than I was brought up to believe.

         I ran across this beautiful poem that was written by Henry Scott Holland, an English clergyman in 1910 and popularized by Irish monks. 

Death is Nothing at All

Death is nothing at all
I have only slipped away to the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
That, we still are.

Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way 
Which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect.
Without the trace of a shadow on it. 

Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same that it ever was.
There is absolute unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?

I am but waiting for you.
For an interval.
Somewhere. Very near.
Just around the corner.

All is well.
Nothing is past; nothing is lost.
One brief moment and all will be as it was before only better,
Infinitely happier and forever, we will all be one together.

          We should never be afraid  to take time to celebrate all the people we have ever loved, the living and the dead. Life is a gift and love is a gift. Wishing you a very happy Hallowed Eve. 

Be the Miracle - Katie

by Miracle Chasers on 09/28/16

           Though earlier this month Mother Teresa was officially made a saint by the Catholic Church, many had her pegged as a saint long ago while she was still alive. Someone once asked her if they could help her mission of serving the poorest of the poor in Calcutta. "Find your own Calcutta," she is purported to have replied. While you might say that Mother Teresa, herself, created miracles every day, she understood well that each of us is surrounded by the opportunity, like author Regina Brett says, to "be the miracle" for someone else. 

          I saw a story on the nightly news recently about a photo taken of an elderly man pushing his paleta (popsicle cart) in a Chicago neighborhood. The man who took the photo started a GoFundMe campaign to raise $3000 to do something to help this man who appeared so defeated by his daily grind. 14 days, 17,000 people and over $380,000 later, 89-year old Fidencio Sanchez can finally retire. Turns out his wife could no longer help him due to illness and they had just buried their daughter.

          Supposedly, the smallest of gestures can cause enormous consequences. The Butterfly Effect in nature suggests that one flap of a butterfly's wings can cause unpredictable and large scale weather events on the other side of the world. Kind of like one photo galvanizing, inspiring and connecting 17,000 strangers to change a life. On the teensier scale, I've convinced myself that letting someone else go ahead of me in a traffic jam or a long line at the grocery story could pay dividends later for another random stranger, that it somehow alters the chemistry of everyone involved (it's true, according to studies, endorphins are released whether we are the givers or the recipients of a random act of kindness.) And then there's the added possibility of the pay-it-forward concept, that our simple gesture is contagious and prompts another and another and so on. We hold the power to light a spark for goodness sake. Think about it; that's a lot of power at our fingertips. As Meb says in the The Miracle Chase, "Sometimes miracles happen when we show up as ourselves and do what we can, when we can..." 

          I used to believe that the idea of "creating" miracles was too "new-age-y." I've come to realize that when we embrace the Divine that is part of each of us, we can exercise the power to partner with God. I like to pretend I have control so to "be the miracle" seems like a better bet than hoping for a thunderbolt from the heavens. 

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There was Magic in the Air at the Massachusetts Conference for Women - December 8, 2011
The Miracle Chase is a book narrating the 10-year journey of three women friends as they explore and discover faith, friendship and survival together.
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