“Miracles are just truths the mind wasn’t ready to see in plain things.”
We miss most miracles because they’re quiet.
They don’t announce themselves with lightning or parting seas. They appear in the way morning light lands on a floorboard. In the soft patience of tea brewing. In how someone says your name gently.
We’ve been trained to look for meaning in the grand — but the divine lives in the ordinary. Always has.
This is not a poetic metaphor. It’s the hidden truth of life: you are surrounded by sacredness, and the only barrier is your noticing.
If you can see the divine in peeling an orange, you will never need to search again.
Today, do not seek a sign. Seek a moment so small your mind might overlook it — and let it become the altar.
Bring your full attention to something simple — washing your hands, folding a towel, drinking water. Slow it down. Breathe. Observe every part of the moment as if it were sacred ritual. Because it is.
Choose one task today that you usually rush through. Instead of rushing, slow it down. Watch each movement. Let it become a prayer.
Mina L. “I cried washing dishes the other day. Not because I was sad — but because I finally saw how beautiful it all is.”
The miracle was never missing — only your attention was.