When Christ walked the earth, He performed many miracles. Yet, they were not the reason He stepped down from heaven. He performed them because of his great sadness over the suffering of humanity, but more importantly as signposts. Like any signpost, their only value lay in their function to guide the traveler to some destination. The destination was, of course, the cross.


That means anything that has happened in our lives that point to Christ as our savior, who died on the cross for us, is a miracle. It can be surviving health issues, persevering through economic struggles, overcoming addictions, and so on. It can be from the mundane to the remarkable.

Any Christian, no matter how easy or hard their life has been, can point to these kinds of miracles. We can certainly all point to the moment of our salvation; the greatest miracle of all may be that we are redeemed.

For some reason, the sensational miracles in our lives seem to hold the greatest value, through they should not. In my case, those kinds of miracles in my life include saving me from long-term alcohol addiction, providing me with a liver transplant when I had only two months left to live, rescuing me from rejection two years later when the doctors had given up, and now kidney failure that has left me on dialysis.

It was, and still is, Christ who brings me through all those issues. Yet, in my mind, the biggest miracles that Christ has performed for me are the thousands (maybe millions) of unaccounted times in my life that that I didn't even notice—because of the umbrella of protection placed over me.

I remember one time returning home late one night from a trip to my in-laws. My wife and two young children had drifted off to sleep. We were on a twisty, country two-lane, behind probably the slowest driver I had ever been behind.

It was late, I was tired, wanting only to crash into bed. I became exasperated by the driver ahead and was anxious to pass him. On a stretch of road where there was plenty of room to pass before a curve, I moved over to pass.

For an unapparent reason, I decided to move back into my place behind that annoying driver. It was just a feeling I got. At that moment, a car came roaring around the curve ahead … on the wrong side of the road. Thankfully, it got back into its lane before hitting either one of us.

I realized in that moment that had I passed, I would have been in the perfect position for a head-on collision. I looked at my sleeping family and silently prayed, "Thank you" to God for protecting me and my family.

That was certainly a miracle, but it made me understand something far deeper. How many other times had similar things happened of which I was unaware? That series of traffic lights where I kept getting red lights, which caused me to be late … was God protecting me from being in the wrong place at the wrong time?

How many of those kinds of circumstances are possible in a single day's time? Countless times in my opinion … and each one a miracle. Every time I think about that, I can't help but thank God for protecting me and the ones I love.

I thank him for all of the untold miracles in my life. And each time I do, I'm reminded of the greatest miracle of all—that Christ died for me. Everyday is a signpost toward Christ.