When I see the butterflies in the window of Our Lady of Butterflies, I am there in the window with her, and I am there with myself on the outside, looking for a miracle. Just a miracle, that’s all.
I really need to think this through a little more, the imperative miracle. It seems to me it would take a miracle for so many things to happen in my life. And I think “miracle” is synonymous with “impossible” in my mind, but that is too narrow for the majestic reality of the miraculous. And why should I not deserve the impossible as much as any Butterfly?