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The Forgotten Miracle

People forget about miracles all the time. God reaches out to save me time and again. In the moment, I’m amazed, thankful and relieved. But hours, weeks, years later…I forget.

A cracked windshield. Thinkstock.
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Have you ever forgotten a miracle?

A few months ago, my dad and I were chatting, and he told me a story that really floored me.

It was the summer of 1969 and my dad was driving on Route 95 to a church picnic in Worcester, Massachusetts, with his brothers Jack and Lutfi. The three brothers had all moved to the United States from Turkey and were struggling to get through school and learn the language. When things got tough, my dad wondered if God really had a plan for them.

He’d only been in the U.S. a few years and wasn’t the most experienced driver. My dad was trying to move into his right lane–a big truck pushing him from behind–when he swerved and lost control. His car flipped over and over, the wheels spinning in the air.

God, please! Spare my brothers! my dad prayed. It couldn’t have been more than 30 seconds before the car stopped spinning, but it felt like an eternity.

The car finally landed on its side. A policeman and a few volunteers pulled them out. My dad and his brothers looked at each other, stunned, then starting hugging and crying. Their car was completely totaled. But they’d escaped without a scratch. “Someone was looking out for you up there,” one of the volunteers said.

It was a second chance, my dad told me. They returned to school and work with renewed energy and a greater hope in miracles. Yes, life was difficult. But God could make the impossible happen. Like saving three brothers in a car crash.

What struck me most about my dad’s story wasn’t how unbelievable it was, though it certainly was amazing. But that I’d never heard the story before. (And I thought I’d heard all my parents’ stories at least a dozen times!)

Why was this the first time I was learning about something so remarkable? How could my dad have forgotten about something like this?

And then it hit me. People forget about miracles all the time. I certainly do. God reaches out to save me time and again. In the moment, I’m amazed, thankful and relieved. But hours, weeks, years later…I forget.

So if you have a miracle, I encourage you to share it. Don’t wait until you have the right words. Tell your story to friends and family. Comment below or on Facebook. You can also drop us a line at mw@guideposts.org.

Let your miracles live on! 

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