I’m not sure if you’ve ever witnessed anything “miraculous” before… but, if you have… it’s worth remembering often. It’s worth sharing, writing down, reflecting on, and celebrating.
The last few months have had me, in moments, spiraling into a pit of, “I don’t know how this is all gonna work out.” But this thought has always been quickly countered with the reminders of how God moves, works, and provides. And while I don’t know, in this particular instance, how anything will actually “work out” – there’s a great comfort in knowing that God’s provision and timing have always been perfect. Even when infertility didn’t turn into pregnancy, God provided.
Because He who promised is faithful.
As the non-profit I work for now faces some financial needs, I can’t help but remember a similar feeling almost 20 years ago (totally different circumstances, totally different non-profit). And while I anticipated (and prayed) that God would provide the millions of dollars needed through thousands (if not millions) of individuals, that’s not how He showed up. Instead, God’s provision came through the generosity of three individuals who not only gave, but ended up investing years of their lives into a ministry that the Lord had knowingly planted along their journey.
I love recalling this story.
There are so many intricate details about it that reveal God’s kindness and mercy. In the midst of our uncertainty, worry, and fear — God had a plan. He had been stirring the hearts of strangers, preparing their story to intersect with ours for such a time as this. Our needs, met with God’s faithful provision.
It’s good for me to remember.
It’s good for us to remember.
And while I know very well that the current situation is vastly different from the one I just described, it’s helpful to recall how God shows up. It’s helpful to remember that He does.
We witnessed many miracles during that season.
I don’t ever want to forget those moments. I don’t want to forget how it feels to be facing something seemingly impossible and to be in the midst watching God make it possible. Those moments aren’t just ones to distantly read in the pages of Scripture – but they’re happening every day.
And the best parts about all of those stories are not just that the blind see and the lame walk (although, that’s entirely worth celebrating!)… but it’s that they all point to the only One who can make the impossible possible.
The miracles don’t leave me in awe of three men who chose to give so generously (although I am so grateful for them). But, more than that, they leave me in awe of the God who caused a million other little things to align perfectly so that those men would be connected to that organization at the exact right time so they could effectively “save” us. But it was never about them… it was always about Him: the Triune God who is sovereign in all things.
It’s easy to hone in on the times He doesn’t feel especially present or involved in the minute details. It’s probably more normal for us to magnify those moments over any others. The hurts can quickly drown out the “wins”. The job loss can cause me to forget the miracles witnessed. The deaths make everyday living feel a little less magical.
But I’m working on slowing. Slowing my feet enough to look up, to remember, to see the light. And when I pause long enough to do that, my perspective shifts toward gratitude — for every breath, every heartbeat, for the ways God will use even this (fill in the blank) for something good.
And, on the flip side, I believe that when we are paying attention to the promptings to do, to give, to reach out… that God is using us in miraculous ways in other people’s lives and stories. Those men could have heard our pleas and gone on with their lives and never known the difference. But they didn’t. They slowed. They listened. Their hearts were stirred. And God is still using them to proclaim his good news through that organization.
I want to slow my feet enough to remember.
I want to slow my feet enough to listen so that I, too, can respond.
This story has never been mine. It’s never been ours. It’s much bigger than that. And I’m so grateful to have the teeniest, tiniest part to play in it. May he find us faithful in telling others who the story is really about.