Our World Is Still Filled With Miracles
Our world is filled with miracles.
We forget this sometimes, lost in the noise of errands, headlines, and the pace we’ve mistaken for living. But the truth is woven into the story we were given long ago—the story of Jesus multiplying a few stale loaves and a couple of fish into enough to feed thousands.
That didn’t happen in a dreamland or a mythical sky.
It happened on this earth, on the same soil beneath our feet now.
It happened under the same sun that rises on us each morning.
It happened in the presence of ordinary people, carrying ordinary hunger—both physical and spiritual.
If such a miracle unfolded in our human history, why do we so easily forget that miracles still surround us?
The world has not grown less holy.
Only our attention has.
Society has grown quick to explain everything, to rationalize away the sacred, to call faith “naive” and mystery “irrelevant.”
But stepping away from God doesn’t erase God.
Walking past the miraculous doesn’t make it disappear—
it only makes us blind to it.
We live in a world where:
A child takes a first breath, and no two breaths are ever the same.
A wound—physical or emotional—knits itself back together, guided by something we cannot see.
Love appears in the most unexpected people, often exactly when needed.
Nature speaks in symbols and timing, whispering God’s language in winds, clouds, animals, and seasons.
Hearts awaken after years of silence, as if God touches them in the night.
These are not small events.
They are the modern-day multiplication of loaves—quiet, consistent, and holy.
The true miracle wasn’t only the bread.
It was the message:
God does not run out. Not of provision. Not of mercy. Not of love.
Where we see “not enough,” God multiplies.
This message remains as alive today as it was the day thousands sat on a hillside and watched the impossible unfold.
But to understand it, we need the one thing the crowd had that day—
a willingness to sit still and look toward Him.
Miracles require space.
They require awareness.
And above all, they require a heart willing to believe that God is not done moving.
If God could multiply what was barely enough into more than enough,
He can do the same with:
the pieces of our lives
the fragments of our strength
the remnants of our hope
the love we think we might lose
the path we feel unsure of
the healing we are waiting for
The miracle of the loaves and fish was never meant to be a memory.
It was meant to be a reminder.
A reminder that God steps into scarcity.
He breathes abundance into what looks empty.
He blesses what we bring, even if it’s broken or small.
He multiplies what we fear will never be enough.
Our world is still filled with miracles.
They are around us, within us, and waiting before us.
The proof walked this earth once…
and His presence has never left.
