What is a Miracle?

Throughout this last month, my ideas about miracles have been shaken…exploded…demolished…rebuilt…and transformed. In walking through this whole “ALS nightmare” I’ve been waiting for “my miracle.” Now I realize that I have already received several miracles...I just haven't recognized them as such.

This “musing about miracles” began when we were chatting with our son David and his wife Rhonda about my illness, when Rhonda commented, “We tend to think of miracles as being ALL or NONE—a complete healing or not. But Mom, I think it’s a miracle that your ALS is moving so slowly.”

H-m-m-m-m! I hadn’t thought about it that way.

Have I been delighted that it has been moving slowly? Yes. Have I been relieved? Yes. Have I realized it was a miracle? No, not really.

Somewhere over the next few days I finished the book I was reading and went to our shelf to choose another one. I had already decided that I was going to read C.S. Lewis’s "Chronicles of Narnia" next, but then I discovered that somewhere in our move they had been lost. Bummer! And my heart was so set on reading them. (Since then Paul loaned me his set, so they're next on my reading agenda.)

However, I can now see that God had one more book he wanted me to read first--while my mind was still chewing on this "miracle thing."

Standing there at our bookshelf, my eyes landed on "Affliction" by Edith Schaeffer and something stirred. In my young adulthood Edith had been my favorite writer—hands down. I read many of her books and they inspired me as a wife, a mother, and a creative child of God. This particular book was purchased by default…and never read. Why? Because I didn’t need its messaage. I bought it because I heard that Edith would be speaking in Brussels on my birthday (1991) and I wanted to have a book for her to sign. I went to the local (tiny!) Christian bookstore in search of one of her books that I could have her autograph. The only one they had was "Affliction." Bummer! I thought. But I bought it anyway.

I went to her session, and couldn't believe that when she entered she sat down next to me. It was amazing to be shoulder to shoulder with my favorite author…even if it was only for a few minutes at the beginning and end of the session. Afterwards I had her autograph the book and then it sat on my shelf for more than 17 years--until last week.

By the time I was into the fourth chapter, I knew I was reading the book in God’s good timing. Not only was the whole book incredibly well written and biblicly-grounded, bur it also had a very practical view of suffering. It clarified many hunches that I’ve had throughout this process and it had a very mind-stretching view of miracles.

She drew two imaginary rectangles. Rectangle A and Rectangle B. She said that both rectangles will be “museums” in heaven. We, along with other saints, will walk through both in heaven rejoicing at God’s hand…his help…his guidance…his answers.

In both rectangles were stick figures--identical ones. Each figure represented one child of God who has lived at some point in history. Her premise was that every person has a unique set of challenges. No one’s problems, joys, disappointments have ever been exactly like mine. So I am one of those stick figures, and so are you if you’re a follower of Christ--so is Moses--so is the Apostle Paul…

All of our prayers do get answered—some in the “B” way, and some in the “A” way.

In Rectangle B we get what we pray for: a healing, a job, a miraculous change of events. I’ve had some of those and so have you.

In Rectangle A we receive God’s miraculous help in dealing with our circumstances. He carries us, strengthens us, gives us perspective, enlarges our capacity, increases our patience, deepens our endurance, and helps us trust him to new levels. I’m realizing that I've also had lots of those kinds of miracles. You probably have, too.

Edith says it this way: “If His answer is to change the circumstances and give us relief, then we thank Him and worship Him who is ‘able to do all things.’ But if His answer is as it was to Paul, that the ‘thorn’ is not to be removed, but that He will give His sufficient grace to go on, a moment at a time, then we are to answer as Jesus did, ‘Thy will de done.’ Or ‘Not as I will, but as Thou wilt.’” (p. 87)

Then she asks, Which is the greater victory?

H-m-m-m! Which is the greater victory?

This question has been wrestling in my mind for days. If I were to receive a “B” miracle, it would certainly be an amazing victory. Just think: I’d be able to speak clearly, I’d be able to walk steadily. I’d be able to sing again. All of you who have seen me struggle to do those things would easily recognize my healing as a miracle.

But what about a less visible miracle? Would everybody know? Maybe not. However, I'm beginning to see it. Having peace during a time like this IS a miracle. Feeling God’s grace carrying me IS a miracle. Feeling my patience grow IS a miracle. Seeing my trust become bedrock IS a miracle. I’m living a miracle—one that hasn’t been so obvious.

Remember the card I told you I had received from author Elisabeth Elliot after she and Lars stayed overnight in our home? A few weeks ago I finally found it in my file. It was dated April 12, 1995, and it read: “Be not anxious, Maralyn, about the future. Whatever it holds, the supply of grace will be exactly measured according to your need. Peace be with you. Warmly, Elisabeth.”

That kind of grace IS a miracle! Now I see it.

You know what? If you've made a commitment to follow Christ, you’re one of those people in Rectangle A and B, too. Have you had a dramatic healing? It will be recounted by many as an exhibit in Museum B. Or, are you being carried by God’s grace through a tough situation like I am? Someday we will celebrate that as we stroll through Museum A—recounting the goodness of our God to sustain us through the hard things.

Which museum will tell of the greater miracles? H-m-m-m!

mm

P.S. Oh, and one more miracle! Even though our kids live 1016 miles apart, this week I got to hug all five of my grandkids within a 48 hour period. We got back from Pennsylvania on Tuesday night then spent all day Thursday in Wausau. Here are my "grandbabies" in order from youngest to oldest.

Jolene--Age 9 months


Micah--Age 13 months


Elliana--Age 2 years


Levi--Age 3 years


Reuben--Age 5 years


We have to learn to recognize our miracles!