After my step-mom died of pancreatic cancer, I didn't believe in miracles anymore. You see, I had absolute faith that she would be healed. But, God had a bigger plan. I now believe that she was healed in a bigger, wider, more encompassing sense that I cannot even fathom. However, her death did shake my faith and it took me a while to get to this point.
A few years after her death, Jack had a seizure at age three. He seized for over twenty minutes until the paramedics gave him medication on the way to the ER. In the ER, they did a CT scan. I was 7 months pregnant with Ty. The doctors came in and said, "I am so sorry, but we found something on his brain. We are going to admit him." I remember going into the bathroom so Jack would not see me and falling to the ground (not normal for me in a public bathroom) and crying out to God, "I need to hear your voice. This is my baby." I was very scared and broken. He heard my cry and carried me through the next five months of testing and waiting.
The MRI they did found spots on his brain that nobody could explain. They did two spinals on him and tested him for degenerative disorders. They did EEGs and multiple blood tests. We had many different teams of brain surgeons and neurologists look at his results. They were unexplainable. They said his brain looked like that of someone with Elephant Man's disease, someone with Multiple Sclerosis, or someone who was 80 years old.
The waiting for the test results was always the worst for me. At one point, I broke out in hives all over my body, including the bottoms of my feet. The stress was eating away at me. Yet, God was with me. When we were waiting for the last MRI result that would show if there was any degeneration or if Jack's brain had stayed the same, the neurologist was on vacation and we had to wait even longer.
I remember driving to the post office during this waiting time and saying to God, "I don't believe in miracles anymore." That was it. That was all I said. As I put my money in the stamp machine with Ty in his infant carrier on the ground next to me, a nice looking older man came up to me and said, "What a miracle." I looked up at him in wonder. This is what he said to me as I stared blankly at him-
What a miracle! Your baby is such a miracle. You know, I didn't used to believe in miracles. But, when my daughter was just 24 weeks pregnant, her water broke. The doctor said to her that she would have to deliver the baby and it would not survive. She instead went home and asked people to pray for her. When she went back to the doctor, he said that her water bag had filled back up with fluid and that he had never seen or heard of that happening before. It was a miracle. They named her Kira Allison which in Greek means God have Mercy.
He looked up at me with tears streaming down his face and said, "That is why I now believe in miracles."
I was stunned. I think all I did was smile with tears in my eyes. I wish I had said something so this man would know how God had used him in my life. It is a moment I will never forget. It is also the moment that I knew that Jack would be fine, healed, a functioning happy boy. He is now eight and healthy.
Back to my dad and the loss of his wife. Although, our prayers did not end with her physical healing as it did in Jack's case, there was a miracle in how my dad endured the pain of her illness and loss. You see, he is this amazing man who totally trusted in God's steering of the ship of his life. He suffered greatly during Sherry's illness and ultimately her death. He stayed by her side, loving and caring for her amidst much agony. But, he never spoke with bitterness. Instead, he was daily trusting and grateful for what he had.
Now he is blessed with an amazing new wife who did not take Sherry's place, but added to his life with such an abundance that he weeps when he speaks of how God has blessed him in his life. It is clear that no matter our circumstances, we are to choose life, to live, to be. But, if we complain and look at all the negative, which he could have chosen to do, then we surely will miss out on what God has for us.
So, now I do believe in miracles. I have learned though that sometimes they come in our response, our choice to trust in God's plan, and our ability to be grateful.
"Give thanks in all circumstances." 1 Thesselonians 5:18
1 comment:
Brigetta,
I don't know where to start except to say that I am soo touched by your story! You are a beautiful writer, and capture your children, and your feelings perfectly! I have had some experiences with miracles too and they are few and far between but God has been there in the worst of times for me. It is my experience that when we are in our weakest state...He is there and reveals himself. I'm so thankful I read your blog today. What a gift! I'm so thankful your little boy is ok. Your baby will be here soon, and you will join the mom's of four...which is really rare, it seems these days. Having Hannah was so hard because Andrew was 17 months, but she is such a treasure to me. I want to subscribe to your blog. Have a wonderful day. Love, Lizzy
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