Mike Cox In ancient times, miracles were more obvious. Walking on water, parting oceans, and feeding thousands of people with three fish were miracles you could easily recognize. These days, a miracle is an algae growth on an overpass that looks like the Virgin Mary or a politician who tells the truth.

Athletes claim heaven helps with their games and lottery winners say God allowed them to pick the correct numbers. I have always been skeptical about such modern day claims of divine intervention; I hope the Lord has better things to do. But that was before I saw the rowing machine.

For years, I used a worn, rusted rowing machine for workouts. It is an effective way to work up a sweat. Program 30 minutes of Motown into the CD player, then row until the music stops.

When I left Birmingham in 2002 to come to Columbia, I left my rower behind. I had several reasons then, but none seem sensible today. Almost immediately, I regretted my decision. Almost immediately, I began searching for a new one.

I was looking, in vain, for a used rowing machine with simple adjustments and few working parts for under $100. They are harder to find than a Baptist preacher who votes Democrat.

A few weeks ago, I decided I was in a rut and needed to make some lifestyle changes. I wanted to restore necessary order to my existence. I made some adjustments and felt I was close. As a final blow to bring cosmic flow back into my life, I would bite the bullet and pay $169 plus shipping for a new rowing machine.

On my way home the day I decided to order the rower, I saw the remnants of a weekend garage sale still sitting on the side of Kennerly Road. In the middle of a bunch of junk, illuminated by a ray of sunlight, a simple rowing machine rested. A sign propped up nearby read FREE.

Just when I needed a sign from a higher power, there it was. I was making the right changes in my life, the lizard I saved the day before changed my karma, and someone is really looking out for me.

The next morning, I was ready. Music started and I pulled the handles. Otis Redding, The Temptations, The Four Tops, and Marvin and Tammi helped me cut through the imaginary waters. I was no longer a 55–year–old who has trouble getting out of bed. I was revitalized and strong, taking a more direct angle toward a better life.

As James and Bobby Purify closed with Let Love Come Between Us , I was 16 and riding around town on a Friday night. My friends and I were drinking Schlitz and looking for a near mythical 1963 white Ford full of friendly girls.

If we saw the car, our night would be complete. Nothing would materialize, but we had a purpose in life. And that was how I felt this day; a little tired, but energized, and with a real purpose. It was divine.