Aselin

I was so inspired by the bravery and ability of the US Airways pilot this week as he averted tragedy for his entire passenger list. It was nothing short of fantastic watching person after person disembark their respective ferries having been rescued from the floating plane. No one that I saw was carried off, and by all reports everyone is doing physically well. What a fantastic end to a terrible event. Well, unless you’re a migratory bird. But since I regularly eat birds I won’t dwell on that loss.

Most of the passengers whisked past the cameras with a look of shock. I admit I smiled at the men in dress clothes trying to navigate their path while being strangled by their inflated life vests. I’ve always wondered what those things looked like all blown up. There was one jovial man skipping up the gangway, fist pumping the air with a Christmas morning grin on his face. I imagine the adrenaline was flowing freely among these blessed people.

The whole event was aptly named by the media “Miracle on the Hudson.” It truly was a miracle. So... now what? Oddly, I have researched guidance on the subject. There are books and even a TV movie “After the Miracle,” but their subject matter is Helen Keller and the ’69 Mets. Surely important, but not the life and death stuff of plane crashes. Except for Jesus himself, scripture doesn’t cover the subject either. Lazarus went into hiding, the blind, lame and afflicted were told to go their way and sin no more. Interestingly many were told not to tell anyone.

Listening to a post-accident interview of a couple who’s husband was on the plane I began to understand why. The man had texted his wife that his plane was on fire, he loved her and their two daughters. As he put it he said his “goodbye.” His wife was playing in the yard with their children and received the text after the crash and was unable to contact him - which sent her into a complete panic. The interviewer asked what it was like when she discovered her husband had survived the crash.

I can actually go two ways here...a diatribe about how texting is depersonalizing society, or a more thoughtful reflection. How does one capture in words what a miracle really means. How do you capture the breadth of divine providence in the moment you discover your husband is coming home after the crash? How do you express what it means to walk again? See again? No wonder the woman had no answer to the question.

Today, January 20th, the whole day was a miracle. The miracle of liberty. The miracle of unity. The miracle of national growth. The miracle of hope. Our challenge is to acknowledge the more humble miracles in our lives, and pray they don’t involve airplanes or geese.