The Flip Side Of Miracles

Two amazing events unfolded on CNN this morning.
First came word that Jill Carroll, the American reporter held captive in Iraq, had been freed by the insurgents who kidnapped her more than three months ago. Truly a joyous outcome considering the grisly fate of some of the others held captive in the Middle East and Afghanistan in recent years.
A short while later came a press conference marking the release of Randy McCloy from a West Virginia hospital. Randy is the sole survivor of the infamous Sbago mine disaster in which 11 of his fellow miners lost their lives. This shaken young man, who may suffer debiliation for the rest of his life from his ordeal, was able to walk up to the microphones and thank the public for all their good wishes, shaken and weak but so much stronger than when he was rescued, clinging to life.
In both cases the word miracle was freely tossed around, and rightly so. I felt a moment of exhiliration I hoped would boost me as I went about my day. Then came the "back down to earth" realization that miracles are only special because they are rare. For every Jill Caroll there are the Nick Bergs and Daniel Pearls who are savagely murdered, and for Randy McCloy there are legions of men and women who never make it home from their day at work, whether it be at a mine or aboard a plane or in a building like the World Trade Center.
When I heard the report (ultimately false) late that awful night about the 11 miners being rescued alive after hours of being trapped with virtually no air I literally jumped out of my chair. But the eventual result was far more likely and probably would have garnered less reaction.
What is a miracle, after all, but beating the odds, and what is our reaction, other than clinging to hope that the odds will always be in our favor.