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The Greatest Miracle

Updated: Oct 8, 2021

The ocean is wide and the waves are constant, battering the lonely drifting soul who is unable to do anything but submit to the currents which taken him wherever they desire. There is no land in sight, no hope, nothing to alleviate the everlasting movement of the waters. Dark clouds in the horizon, moving closer, eventually covering the ocean in shadows.

He cannot remember how he found himself in such a dreadful situation, it seems to him as if he has been drifting forever, lost in the middle of a vast endless ocean. He holds on to a piece of wood he cannot remember finding, a small helpful piece of wood which has been with him since he became lost.

The days are endless, the nightmares of the darkness around him threaten to taken him under. He grips the piece of wood tight when this happens and for some reason unknown to him, he remains afloat.

“I don’t want to die” his mind whispers to him, somewhere in the depths of his despair there has always been a small voice calling to him. He can’t make out the words, they are sparse and undecipherable. The effort to keep himself afloat require all of his attention.




He has been struggling for so long, he tells himself, he can’t afford any distractions. The waves will not permit him another reason, just keep struggling, keep holding on. His despair deepens.

Why should I keep holding on? He rages as the waves grow larger. There seems to be a storm brewing in the distance, and his despair becomes intense. “I have been adrift for so long I have lost a reason to hold on.” His mind whispers once more.

“Why should I hold on to this peace of wood any longer?” He says out loud. His despair has reached a critical point. It is then he decides to look closer at the piece of wood he has been holding on for so long. The piece of wood has been so snug ever since he found it, almost molding to the contours of his body.

Two sturdy pieces, he notices, joined at a certain point. One piece is longer than the other, crossing the smaller one three quarters of the way up. His memory struggles to remember, he has seen this piece of wood before. Stories he once heard so long ago he had forgotten…

A cross, the small voice whispers in the recesses of his mind. The small voice grows stronger, the waves are forgotten, the struggles which have held his attention for so long have suddenly ceased.


He becomes aware that the sickening movement of the waves has suddenly stopped.


His mind becomes aware that he can feel something solid under him, something other than the cross which has kept him alive all of that time. Slowly the grogginess of his mind disappears and he opens eyes, he did not know were closed.

He is on solid ground, the storm he had seen in the distance has evaporated and the Sun is shining.

He looks down at the piece of wood, the cross which kept him alive. Lucidity arrives like a sudden bright light that illuminates everything. A beautiful, powerful brightness that chases away the darkness he has been in for so long.


“The cross I rejected long ago has saved me.”


He falls down to his knees and begins to pray…


DHD

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