Miracles & Magic
“You think that it’s not magic that keeps you alive? Just ‘cause you understand the mechanics of how something works doesn’t make it any less of a miracle, which is just another word for magic. We’re all kept alive by magic, Sookie. My magic’s just a little different from yours, that’s all.”
a. A reverent petition made to God, a god, or another object of worship.
b. The act of making a reverent petition to God, a god, or another object of worship.
c. A specially worded form used to address God, a god, or another object of worship.
a. A word or formula believed to have magic power.
A tiny green shoot pokes its head up and peeks out at the world from behind baby leaves only now beginning to unfurl, tasting the rain and stretching its roots deep into the dirt; Jesus turns water into wine at a wedding, feeds thousands from five loaves and two fish, raises Lazarus from the dead with love, touches the eyes of the blind and opens them wide; wet and slick, the child emerges from his mother’s womb, moving past the dark into her hands, feeling air on his skin for the very first time, and as he begins to cry, so does she; wrapped up in grace with both hands held tightly, in a quiet room where they can hear the snow falling, the brow softens, the breath slows, the heart under her breast stops beating, and her soul spreads its wings and soars.
Miracles are just another word for magic. Prayer is just another kind of spell. Every breath we take is an exercise in mysticism, and we don’t have to believe in that to live it; our birth marks the beginning of our pilgrimage, and whether we ignore it as we journey, or call it by another name, or catch it only from the corner of our eye, we are all magic in the making, carrying enchantment in our blood and bewitchment in our bones. We are the second sorcerers, our bodies our wands and our hearts our cauldrons; from these, we call forth life, and knowing the mechanics doesn’t make it any less miraculous. It only makes it all the more so.