Unfortunately even the word "miracle" sets me off. In truth, I come from such a dark place. In me lives a slice of history that no-one can ever comprehend. Never wanted to be born. The book I referred to reads under Be Who You Are, "You won the lottery, you were born. You won the lottery, you are you." Did the innocent suffering children in Sudan, in refugee camps in Turkey, Jordan, etc. win the lottery?
But, doogle, there is great beauty in the world. I see the gorgeous blue sky, white clouds, feel the sun and air, exult in the trees, bushes, birds, etc. and I marvel. How about sitting under a tree (or imagining it) and reaching inside with meditation? Yes, it will be under a tree today with Buddha besides me. I may even cry, as I do sometimes, and that's OK.