Rather than ruin the telling of a story of miracles, I would first direct you toward the site, http://www.firethegrid.com/, and encourage you to read it yourself. Whether or not you believe in events that seem to operate above the natural physical order, and whether or not you believe that your actions can affect Gaea, open your mind and read her story and be amazed.
On the site, she speaks about today's date, July 17th, and the specific time of 11:11 am as a time for healing on a personal and planetary level. She asks that for an hour, starting at your local time all over the world, you involve yourself in acts of meditation, giving and joy. This specific intention toward repairing the disconnect of the people on this planet will "fire the grid" of Earth, will reconnect people and places energetically, and hopefully prevent a terrible global event in the near future.
I most definitely believe in miracles, having experienced several first hand. At the age of three, my mother and I had traveled to help my grandmother, who was sitting shiva (mourning) after the death of her father, my Great-Grandfather Danzig. After spending several days in New England, driving home early in the morning on the Mass Pike before it was well lit and safe, my mother suddenly felt the car spinning out of control and heading toward a wall of rock. In the early 1970's, there were few rules regarding driving with children, and so I had fallen asleep with my head on my mother's lap, stretched out on the front seat. By all rights, my head should have gone through the steering wheel, and my mother should have gone through the windshield. Instead, I slept through the entire event, we both walked away without a scratch, and my mother says to this day that it was my recently deceased great grandfather she saw and heard, protecting us from harm.
Years later, after having moved to Israel and at the start of the Second Intifada, a Palestinian sniper missed by head by less than two inches, my car ("Cher") took the bullet for me. I felt then as I felt now that my great grandfather was watching over me, and that the Higher Power had spared my life again for a reason; that I have a real purpose to fulfill.
Today, my day off from work, I involved myself in the usual errands, and for that hour I joyfully shopped at the supermarket, bought gifts for upcoming weddings, and bought a few gifts for myself. That might sound trite, that I defined my joy as the day-to-day affairs with a twist, with a little less stress and a little more give and take, but in Israel that's a big deal. Just turning on the radio for the news in the morning starts the day off with the standard level of stress; then there's the driving on Israeli roads, the daily story of political travesty, the frustrating lack of action regarding the kidnapped soldiers; not to mention your own issues in your life and within your nuclear family.
An hour of joy is exactly what Israel and the world needs, an hour in which you extend the better part of yourself and assume that the best is yet to come.