Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.
Something incredible happened today. Something miraculous.
This morning after the alarm sounded, I coerced myself out of bed, enjoyed the coffee my husband poured for me, and we happily teased each other, filling the house with laughter as we got ready for our daily routine. Afterwards, I tackled an exam I had anxiously studied for all weekend. After a day full of classes and work, John and I returned home to unwind and prepare for the coming morrow.
Incredible, isn’t it?
Wait. You’re wondering if you missed something. You were expecting something more, weren’t you… Perhaps you were waiting to hear that I had been battling a crippling disease and was miraculously healed–today. Perhaps you were expecting to hear that I had been ministering to a friend in need and there was a breakthrough–today. No, nothing that particular. There was indeed a miracle. Did you miss it?
For those of you who are confused, I can clarify a little bit. The miracle that happened today happened before I even opened my eyes. It happened as I slept through the night. Years ago I suffered with severe insomnia. I would often go days with nothing more than an hour or two of sleep. I was tormented at night by thoughts of fear, thoughts of nonsense, thoughts of regret. Just thoughts, that I couldn’t control. Thoughts that controlled me. Yet last night, like pretty much every other night nowadays, was quiet, and full of rest. It is a miracle that I have peace.
The miracle also happened when the alarm went off. I got up, and my first thoughts were of my thankfulness for my life. You see, after attempting suicide, after several stints in various mental hospitals, after numerous overdoses from abusing my body with more drugs and alcohol it could handle at one moment, after being in and out of rehabs, I realize that life, this blessed life I live, is a gift of mercy from God. It is a miracle that I am alive.
The miracle happened when I hugged and kissed my husband this morning. With all the hurt and abuse from people in my past and with all the lies of worthlessness, failure, and hate, being buried deep in my heart, I came to Christ a wounded soul. God gave me a wonderful husband whose love brings healing into my life every day. Paul Young wrote in his book The Shack, “I suppose that since most of our hurts come through relationships, so will our healing…” Thank you, John, for being an instrument of healing. It is a miracle that I am free to love.
The miracle happened once again when I got to school early, studied, and did well on an exam I had been dreading. The Hannah years ago couldn’t handle such responsibility or stress. I was so heavily medicated that I couldn’t gather enough energy or motivation to get up earlier than 3 pm in the afternoon. I began failing my classes for excessive absences. Studying of course was no where near my thoughts. When I sought medical advice I was prescribed a pill to wake up, a pill to stay “leveled” throughout the day, a pill to go to sleep, and another pill to counter the negative health effects of the other three. At one point the mix of medications made me manic. At another point they had turned me catatonic. I was condemned by a doctor who said I would be reliant on medication for the rest of my life, lest I live, in his words, “a life of chaos–a living hell.” I wish I could write out the whole process of healing and restoration for you. I know of so many young men and women who have struggled for years with mental illnesses, a mind tormented with fear and pain… I wouldn’t know where to start. Perhaps I will one day. I do know that Jesus who heals the crippled, the blind, the bleeding, also heals the mentally broken as well. Today, without any medication as crutch, I have a sound mind, I have so much joy, and I am excited to discover what wonderful plans He has for me. Is it not a miracle?
It has been almost 6 years since I met Jesus Christ. It has been nearly six years since my life was radically transformed from that of a alcohol, opiate, pill dependent, suicidal, hateful, bitter, fearful child. He took all those things upon himself, shed his precious blood for me on the cross, and clothed me in His righteousness. Isn’t it amazing? Isn’t it a miracle?
How often do we miss the miracles he has given us?
Jesus said to him, “Unless you see signs and wonders you will not believe.” John 4:48
In the account of the official’s son, Jesus is approached by a man of authority in need of a miracle. His son was ill, on the doorstep of death. In response to the official’s request Jesus replies, “Unless you see signs and wonders you will not believe.” But the man does not waver in his request. He continues to press Jesus, “Come before my son dies!” Jesus then replies, “Go, your son lives.” The man takes Jesus at his word, goes his way, and his son is healed that very hour. This man did not stop and wait for Jesus to rend the skies in a grand display of power before choosing to believe. He was firm on who he believed Jesus was–the Savior,the Healer,the Restorer.
It is a miracle that I am who I am, doing what I do. However insignificant I may seem or how mundane the deeds are, they are miracles nonetheless because of the impossible depths of sin and depravity that Christ raised me from. The destinations often seem so much greater when the journey was that much harder. I will not miss the miracles in my everyday life, waiting for the big ones to come–though they are coming!
Our miracles come daily. Are we waiting for signs across the sky? God can, and does work in HUGE, extravagant ways, but he also works quietly, in the backgrounds of the ordinary. Don’t miss what God is doing right in front of you because your eyes were busy searching the skies for a sign. He works miracles, every day.