On Miracles

Troy has an incredibly eloquent post on the miraculous over at his blog. What follows is my comment, which I decided merited its own post here.

Ah, the realm of the miraculous. I don't know if you ever heard of my own brush with what I believe to be something of the supernatural (though I can't believe that in all those nights hanging out at Club J that you didn't). It was early 1988, and Ken T. and I left church Sunday night looking for those two cute new girls in Network (KMJ and Mrs. Funkiller - amazing how strong those bonds have been all these years). Anyway, we went by their apartment - no dice, but their roommate told us they were at the Seal Beach Pier. We drove my '86 Hyundai down there and promptly locked the keys in the car, meaning we *had* to find the girls at that point. Find them we did - out on the pier, at roughly the point above the water where the waves were breaking. Mrs. Funkiller had (and still has, as I recall) the habit of "talking with her hands," and, in tandem with a particularly grandiloquent statement, managed to hurl her own keys *over the side of the pier, into the crashing waves.* All four of us ran to the nearest stairway down to the beach level and splashed around in the water, trying to find the keys. See, my spare keys were at my house in College Park East, while Mrs. Funkiller's were at her home in Hanford, up near Fresno. Finding her keys was essential at this point. We splashed around for about twenty more seconds, when Ken T. said, "Stop! Let's pray!" And we did. And, I kid you not, not half a second after Ken said "amen," I moved my bare foot three inches over in the water and STOOD RIGHT ON THE KEYS. Coincidence? Possibly. I, however, think differently.