The cold darkness fell over the young man as he walked through the woods. The inky blackness of the cold morning smothered him like a wet blanket. Fear and doubt crushed down on his soul as he walked. A lone frog croaked off in the distance — otherwise, the only sound he could hear was the sound of his feet crunching on the gravel road.
“Why, God? Why? Why won’t you heal me?”
The young man started talking aloud, silencing the frog and breaking the morning’s calm. “Why do I hurt? If you were an all-loving God, you’d send me a miracle or at least a sign! Where’s the shooting star? Or even a burning bush! I’d settle for a damn burning bush!”
Hurt, tired and angry, the young man felt gravity pulling him down. Tears started to flow down his cheeks. “Why? Why can’t you give me one miracle.”
Then a slight breeze blew across his face. He stopped and realized he had been given the miracle he so desperately craved.
It was his breath. He took a deep breath. And then another.
Behind him, a meteor burned through the atmosphere. But he missed that. Instead, he just focused on the gift he had been given — the air entering and leaving his lungs.
He was alive. That was enough of a miracle for him.