God of the easy “miracles.”
A “miracle” is donut-rain.
Or people regrow (or grow) missing limbs overnight.
Or everybody-switches-gender.
Not I-or-someone-I-know-survived-a-health-condition-with-a-high-mortality-rate-but-I-don’t-understand-statistics-and-probability-therefore-god.
(Here’s a little tip: if medical science improves the survival rate over time - e.g. HIV, heart transplants, cancer - then it’s not a “miracle,” is it? At what percentage does it stop being a “miracle” and start being completely unremarkable?)
One-in-a-hundred, one-in-a-thousand, one-in-a-million happens every day. All the time. There are seven-fucking-billion people on this rock. One-in-a-million still means 7,000 people. People die in fatal car accidents every day. Someone gets randomly shot every day - or maybe it just seems that way lately. Teenage girls get pregnant “but I don’t know how this could have happened!1!” every day.
A “miracle” is not just unlikely or rare or even unexplained. Unexplained is not evidence of your god - thunder and lightning were unexplained. Eclipses were unexplained. Disease was unexplained. Earthquakes were unexplained. The sun was unexplained. And then after we explained them, we explained them again, this time correctly, using science instead of religious superstition.
A “miracle” is, by definition, something that is impossible, literally impossible, without a god - and specifically your god - unambiguously stepping in and bending or outright defying the natural laws of the universe to make it happen. You know, the same natural laws it (supposedly) created in the first place.