Not Technically a Miracle

    What happened to us on the road to Rimrock was not technically a miracle. God did not override a law of nature. He used what He normally does, the things He already made, to do his work. Like turning water into wine, Jesus uses ordinary objects and people to do extraordinary things. It was the instant answer to prayer and Ryan's message that made the event miraculous. It was followed by the other small confirmations God usually uses to guide Christians. Still, I cannot say that the rest of the trip to Billings was peaceful, even after the divine intervention. Tracy was still fearful, despite the lorazepam he was given for withdrawal until we got to Billings. Already running late, we were afraid to stop for smoke breaks. I had already decided to let him smoke in the car before he asked permission.
     Tracy had been playing music from his phone on the car speakers since we left Kalispell  for Helena the day before. To his credit, he tried to find genres we liked, like Celtic. It seemed important to him that we appreciated his music and I did like many of the songs but frankly, at that point, I would have liked "death metal" if it kept him calm. But he was not calm. He was holding on to both grab handles above the back doors and I was coaching him through slow, deep breathing like I used when I was in labor. I was out of ideas and praying furiously when Tracy started playing Brian Regan comedies on Spotify. Why didn't I think of that? Comedy is my favorite stress reliever. We laughed our way to Rimrock, 15 minutes late for his intake. It took another ten to get him from the parking lot to the door. The last thing he asked us to do before he entered was pray for him.
     Having been on the inside of locked facilities when I was hospitalized for depression in my early 30's, I knew something of what he was feeling, but for Tracy it was also his first time away from his hometown. Since he did not go to college, he hadn't experienced that somber drive to a new place, the fancy dinner none of us had an appetite for, that first night alone with strangers for roommates. If someone had offered me a ride home my first three weeks at Bible college, I would have been gone in an instant--and I came from a dysfunctional home. Reed said he would have driven right through Western's campus without stopping his freshman year, if he hadn't needed to drop off a girl who had ridden with him. Of course, before too long we loved college and eventually each other, but an addiction center, despite all the educating done there, is hardly like college.
     The important thing was, Tracy had made it to a place that could help him. For the first time in a long time, we knew he would not be drinking. We felt so blessed. After rain washed off the dead bugs stuck to the windshield on the drive home, I told Reed maybe we didn't need to stop for gas. Maybe God would miraculously fill the gas tank. He had already topped off our spiritual tanks.