It is a simple truth: giving to others makes us happy. The more we offer, the happier we become. And yet we resist it.
It is important to be where we are: to accept that we believe we are bodies, that we are in the world, that life is not fair (although it can sometimes be pleasant), and that we are not filled only with peace and joy but also with guilt and pettiness and anger and spite and all of that.
A meaningful journey begins somewhere: and knowing where we begin can make the journey home – or to Heaven – clearer and more direct.
The miracle – which does indeed always bless us – is in the nature of a tango. It cannot be performed alone. Unlike a tango, however, the partner need not be in the loop. They don’t have to know about A Course in Miracles, don’t have to care about Jesus, and don’t even really need to be in the same physical space as you.
But we can never forget: miracles – which are “expressions of love” (T-1.I.1) and an “expression of an inner awareness of Christ and the acceptance of His Atonement” (T-1.I.44) – are also the “maximal service you can render another” (T-1.1:18:2).
The miracle is something that we extend: that we offer to another. In a sense, the miracle is not about us – our feelings, our ideals, our desires – but about the other person. What can we give them? What do they need?
It requires a sincere effort to listen and be aware of our brothers and sisters. We have to pay attention. They are always speaking to us: in words, gestures, intimations, behavior. The miracle is our loving response, flowing not from the ego’s need to bolster itself, but from the Christly desire to heal through love.
If you offer miracles, you will be equally strong in your belief in them. The strength of your conviction will then sustain the belief of the miracle receiver. Fantasies become totally unnecessary as the wholly satisfying nature of reality becomes apparent to both giver and receiver (T-1.VII.3:9-11).
The metaphysics of the course are so tempting! And pithy quotes about love and freedom are tempting, too. There is a place for both. But we end our separation from God through miracles: miracles are the means of the Atonement. And miracles are offered to another.
And so we are called to become givers: men and women for whom offering love – whatever its form – becomes habitual. It’s easier than it sounds – and more fun than it looks. Love is natural, and its extension is our only profession.