My not-so-immaculate conception.

I don’t have to make lists. Of things to do. To make me happy. Knowing that I exist. That I’m a conscious being. That’s enough. Makes me a miracle. That’s the only way it could have happened. Doesn’t matter. If it was a grand design. Or mere coincidence. A miracle is a miracle. Imagine. Mom and dad. Meeting. And procreating. Indeed, that’s a spectacularly profound miracle. Wow. I am the product of a miraculous conception. Only an immaculate conception could beat that. –Jim Broede