Where’s My Miracle?

As I was driving to church this morning, a story came on the radio of a woman who prayed over her dead son. After an hour without a heartbeat, he came back to life. It should be encouraging but it just made me cry.

“Where’s my miracle?”

How selfish is that? Here’s a mom celebrating the life of her son and all I can think about is how unfair it is that her son is alive and my father is dead. My soul is in a dangerous place.

The danger to my soul is not the losses I have endured this year. My soul’s danger is the allure of selfishness and desire to grasp everything I can in response to that loss.

If I don’t trust, my trust can’t be broken.
If I don’t share my heart, you can’t betray me.
If I keep Community Group superficial, it won’t hurt when it falls apart.
If I don’t love, losing you won’t wound me.

But when my eyes are on myself, there’s no hope for my rescue. The path out of my depression is found in reaching out a hand to others. If my world is all about me then my world will keep getting smaller and smaller till I suffocate.

Ironically, my father would have given his life for that boy. He would have done anything to save his life and he would have died a hero. Nothing mattered more to my father than children and I should be able to celebrate his miraculous resurrection.

Instead I’m crying and moping and asking, “Where’s my miracle?”

God set me straight. This is the loving rebuke He gave me.

Where’s my miracle?

My miracle is 8 years ago when God introduced me to Tony. Through Tony I gained access to an association that helped me learn my value and establish my core doctrines to prepare me for the challenges I’d face. Because of Tony I have met Stephen, the primary voice of reason in my chaos.

Where’s my miracle?

My miracle is 6 years ago when God came to me in a dream and told me to go to WBCC. At WBCC I forged many relationships that have been my support and lifeline this year.

Where’s my miracle?

My miracle was born 5 years ago and miraculously is strong and healthy today. My Princess is the brightest light in my (physical) life and on my hardest days I just find her and hold her.

Where’s my miracle?

My miracle is two years ago when I found the Cotton Community Group. This was my “family” when everything started to fall apart. They cleaned my house, washed my laundry, cooked me meals, and were the hands of Christ when I needed it most.

Where’s my miracle?

My miracle is last year when Julie offered to disciple me. I was untrusting and wounded and difficult but she never gave up and kept trying to break my shell. She organized a group of people to bring the ornaments in the header image and has consistently been an encourager to me.

Where’s my miracle?

My miracle is this year, when Bob* asked me to find “safe” people and God led me to Ranae. I couldn’t have imagined someone as perfectly suited to be the friend I need in this season.

Where’s my miracle?
What have I needed that wasn’t provided?
When have I lacked for anything?

Maybe it’s time to stop asking, “Where’s my miracle?” and instead ask, “Whose miracle am I supposed to be?”

*Bob is the name my cousin gave my counselor.

2 responses to “Where’s My Miracle?”

  1. Are miracles and their spot on delivery a promise made to all believers, or a sign of something else, like in John 3 versus 1 through 21? Didn’t all of the Apostles of Christ, save one, reportedly suffer a violent death; that after many a dangerous and difficult ordeal? Where were all of their miracles when each found their own end? “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life” can be a part of a hopeful prayer, but is it a literal promise? Didn’t Frederick Nietzsche say “I’m not upset that you lied to me, I’m upset that from now on I can no longer believe you.” Are there lies in God’s promises, or merely the expectations we put there with the best of intentions; and then those things are what can turn into lies we set about looking for them? I sometimes wonder if those same self made promises, wishfully attributed to God, can cause one to doubt His real promise and His real miracle. To me it makes sense that the height of the joy you had in having such great parents is naturally a part of the same metric in the depth of sorrow you feel by their absence. If you weren’t able to feel that happiness back then, you wouldn’t feel the grief that same way as you do now. With their passing you have lost an important foundation in life to be sure, but you truly have no lasting stumbling block or rock of offense to keep you from moving forward with finding the meaning and the appreciation for your life as it has become for you now, and always with your own faith intact.

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  2. […] three very difficult weeks, this weekend I pulled away for some self-care. Friday was spent emotionally recharging with Ranae. […]

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