# 61 THE AGE OF MIRACLES IS NOT PAST

On my old blog "Abbreviated Abstractions" Mar 5, 2004, I did a series on a "Time of Miracles." But in the end I concluded that the Time of Miracles is past. Left behind when we mature and pass the age of innocence. A maturity that makes us lose the unshakable faith, confidence, wonder and ready acceptance of miracles that we have as a child.

But perhaps I have to recant my theory that the age of miracles is past. Because I really do have a story to tell that is too unbelievable to be anything short of a miracle.

On the last day of our holiday we stopped at a campsite to have a bite of lunch and let the doggies run about. We wandered about the campsite, playing with the dogs, preparing lunch, and setting out our table and chairs. We ate a leisurely lunch, then packed up and were about to continue on home. When everything was back in place, we jumped in our vehicles, started our engines, and prepared to depart. But when Son-in-Law got in his vehicle and placed his hands on the steering wheel, he suddenly came to a horrifying realization. His wedding ring was gone.
When? How? Where? He didn’t know.

And so the search began. We ripped everything out of our vehicles and went through the contents one square millimeter at a time. Nothing.

Then we stared at the ground. Thickly carpeted with leaves the same hue as the gold ring that was missing. We began shuffling the leaves with our feet. It was a large ring so I removed my shoes and socks and felt about in my bare feet hoping that I might feel the ring in this manner. Nothing. By now all of us were feeling it was as useless to search for the ring as to search for a needle in a haystack. After all, it was quite possible that the ring was lost 200 miles back at a Service Station where we had stopped for gas.

Having combed the whole area with visual inspection, Hub and YD now set about systematically brushing the leaves aside in narrow strips with their feet. A disheartened bunch we were. Son-in-Law had already decided that in the midst of such trauma he was going to remain at the campsite however many days it took to find the ring and should that fail he would remain an aimless wanderer in the area for his remaining days.

But as Hub continued to systematically sweep aside the dead leaves with his foot he came across a tiny spool of thread. Nothing more, just a tiny miniature spool of thread. We knew nothing of its origin or how it came to be there but that tiny spool of thread gave Hub a flush of unshakable faith and confidence that the ring could (and would) be found.

And within minutes of finding that spool of thread, Hub announced "I found it." My immediate reaction was anger and thorough disgust, and I think YD’s reaction was the same as mine. Sometimes Hub’s sense of humor is more than a little bit annoying. But wait, to our utter astonishment, he had found it. There it was in his hand – the missing gold band!
We were awestruck. Dumbstruck!

Hub and YD quickly hurried to a far corner of the park where Son-In-Law was searching to let him know they had found it. YD gave her Dad the biggest warmest hug and kiss she has ever given him. And Son-In-Law, who has never done, and would never consider doing any more than warmly shaking Hub’s hand, asked for permission to do the same. And he did.

No, my friends, the time of miracles is not past. As long as there is a one small thread or fleeting flush of faith, miracles will continue to happen.