Most people, I’m fairly certain, think of a miracle as a welcome event considered the work of a divine agency; a “supernatural” phenomenon in the physical world beyond our human powers––random, inexplicable, and rare. They’re desirable, even if they’re not necessarily understood. It is not uncommon for people to pray for a miracle to deliver them from pain and suffering despite the uncertainty of the result.

Actually, miracles are within our reach all day, each, and every day. I’d like to offer a slightly different, more accessible, workable definition. As you read, keep in mind two ideas:

            A perception is the interpretation we’ve made

            A false concept is a judgment, opinion, or belief

A Course in Miracles teaches that a miracle corrects perception by replacing our false concepts with thoughts that reflect our spiritual nature and align our understanding with truth.

In essence, miracles sweep away fear, substituting it with an expression of love and the experience of peace. Miracles are clearly the work of a divine agent and within our human power to activate at will. They come at our invitation. Miracles effectively provide consistent, desired, reliable, explainable, frequent results.

Think of a miracle as an approach or way of life. It consists of an array of small, constant choices set into motion by our willingness to resist the pull of past conditioning. The “I know” mind clamors for attention and demands. It provides “evidence” to support our false judgment, suspicion, anger, and attack. This mind is closed and actively works to prevent ideas that represent another view. It’s very convincing…and relentless. We’re stuck in this no-win cycle until—and if—we become aware of the pattern and consciously decide to think differently. We can activate a miracle.

For example, I witnessed my husband, Keith, recently go through this process. Preparing for an upcoming road trip, he took his 2003 Chevy Avalanche in for transmission service. He figured with 170,000 miles it was time. His road trip went well and he returned home safely, but after driving 6,000 miles, despite the service, the transmission seized up. With all due respect to his feelings: this triggered an emotional response.

Unbeknownst to me he went to bed that night with a head full of transmission “stories.” Apparently, when he was younger, there were frequent tales of car maintenance shops deliberately tampering with transmissions. They put something in it that caused a malfunction up to 10,000 miles after servicing. They were in cahoots with transmission shops and received kickbacks. An old-timer he met on his recent road trip said something similar, reinforcing his sense of unease. His mind defended and justified this thinking because his truck seized up within the timeframe indicated, conveniently ignoring the fact that it was also within the acceptable lifespan for his vehicle.

Deprived of a sound sleep he woke up early the next morning, his mind swirling with conspiracy theories and suspicion. Had he been duped? Did the auto shop he trusted do something unorthodox? In mental turmoil, he noticed his stomach was in knots too.

Oblivious of my husband’s inner assault and physical pain, I felt compelled to share my definition of tragedy and comedy. “A tragedy,” I explained, “is when the main character has multiple opportunities to make a better choice, to redeem him or herself before they die, but doesn’t do so. A comedy is when the main character musters up the courage and inner strength to break the cycle of habit and finds redemption.” Wanting to connect the dots I asked him, “What will your life be, a tragedy or a comedy?” Without hesitation he answered firmly and decisively, “A comedy.” Little did I know it was a perfect setup for what followed.

Over breakfast Keith told me his suspicions of being scammed. He began citing “evidence,” which amounted to decades-old hearsay reinforced by a chance meeting with a stranger in North Dakota. I listened incredulously. Before I knew it I blurted out, “Why would you want to think that way?” He responded, “I don’t. As I’m telling you I’m realizing it’s my ego talking. Actually…it’s shouting at me.”

He continued. “When I stop and think about it, I had a positive experience with the guys who worked on my transmission. I thought they did a good job.” Despite the noise in his head, he discerned the presence of another, kinder, thought—one unlike the rest—reminding him of his direct experience. “What feels more peaceful?” I asked. Because Keith values peace of mind he immediately recognized the better choice.

Visibly relieved and calmer, and without further hesitation, he called the shop he’d used. The transaction proved to be a positive experience with every detail falling effortlessly into place. Keith got his transmission fixed and used the opportunity to make a major repair on his mental state.

An experience a dear friend of mine recently shared also illustrates the accessibility of miracles. In her words, “There was a moment after surgery, between the recovery area and the hospital room, when all of a sudden the entire situation came down on my head. I seemed to view one terrible situation after another. I felt I was about to fall off a cliff. It was a moment of sheer terror…but something kind of like a soft voice said, “Take a breath. Don’t jump into each one. Instead observe things as they pass by…” 

“So I took a step back and didn’t deny that things were horrid, but I saw it pass by. I knew things had to be tackled, but I realized they didn’t all have to be  “fixed” in 14 minutes. I calmed down. I felt the planet under my feet.”

The key takeaway? Miracles are ours for the asking in any and all circumstances, however mundane or life threatening. We’re required to notice and acknowledge we’re not at peace. By observing the mind’s frantic activity in a detached, non-judgmental manner we can approach with a willingness to see things differently. With practice miracles become a habit that has the power to replace fear with love, pain with joy, and conflict with peace. Now that kind of miracle is worth praying for.