This question has plagued me for the past 4 years, but, if I'm honest, it's plagued me all my life.
I`m a Gideon. I`m a Thomas. I want the signs and the clear answers from God. I want to see the rain only on one side; and when I am still not satisfied, I want the rain on the other side now. I want to put my finger in the wounds and see Him walking.
In a sense, I think I don't give myself enough credit. I´ve always felt Jesus`scolding "You of little faith" is directed to me, but I guess in human standards I`m doing better than the disciples. I mean, these men have seen Jesus do impossible things, yet they wanted more faith.
Luke 5
5 The disciples said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!”
6 He replied, “If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it will obey you.
How could they have needed more faith after all they had seen Jesus do? And Jesus´answer has always plagued me as well. If your faith was as small as the smallest seed, it could still do impossible things possible. If I've never seen an impossible thing happen, is my faith not even as small as a mustard seed? Was the disciples`faith smaller than that as well even after they saw these impossible things? If I saw a miracle my faith would be unchanged?
I`ve prayed for miracles. I`ve asked God to show Himself and His power to me all my life. I begged my friend Nancy would come out of her comma and instead she was declared brain dead. I begged for a miracle for Kara, Giana, and Kinsley. They loved Jesus so passionately, I couldn't fathom God`s answer being a "no", but it was. When my friend Chele was diagnosed with cancer a year after I was, I didn't even pray for a miracle.
Chele died two days ago after a battle that was less than two years long. In the end, cancer had consumed him in such a way his death was a relief. Is it horrible for me to say that, or is it a small insight that death is not the end and not the enemy? Our human minds can't understand the kindness behind death. I understand it better. Surviving cancer to me has been a hard burden to endure. It sounds unbelievably selfish of me to say something like that after so many don't survive, but being left with chronic pain for the rest of my life sometimes makes me wish I had gone to Jesus.
I feel selfish sometimes by how much I long for His second coming. I want the new life and the new world to come to fruition. This world is no longer luring to me. But my loved ones can still feel a sense of thriving in this side of life. I feel bad wishing it was over, but aren't we all called to long for His coming? My godmother, Sue Powell, has had a lifetime battle with chronic pain. She survived cancer almost 40 years ago. No one longs for Jesus` second coming as much as she does. But her desire for His coming is for her longing to be with her Savior, not the end of her pain. She reminds me of my grandmother, who made into her 90s, but had been telling me for almost 10 years before her passing how much she longed to go to Jesus. I would get sad and tell her not to say that. I was only thinking of myself. Sue tells me the same things, and even though we've never met face to face, I don't want to imagine a world where she is not in it. But her miracle would be to go to Jesus.
Am I a miracle? Next month will be my fourth year when I was diagnosed with cancer. I'm still here and my checkups have come clean. My brain refuses to believe I am a miracle because the chances of those checkups not coming clean are always present. "What if I tell the world I am a miracle and I was cured, and my cancer comes back to claim me?" You see, I would consider myself a miracle if I died of something other than cancer. But we are all going to die, one way or another. What is the purpose of me searching for a miracle that only means I didn't die of X or Y?
The miracle is love. My friend Chele was a miracle and got a miracle. He was loved so well by his wife. She literally laid down her life for him. I never saw her or Chele crying or wallowing in self-pity. Chele used his last words to preach Jesus and praise His goodness and glory. He was stuttering, but could not contain the message of hope he had received. His wife endured hardship, loneliness, and reclusion, yet all she ever did was praise God's goodness and provision for her. Even after her husband's passing, she knows she got a miracle. The miracle was that she found a husband whom she loved and loved her back. The miracle was that they were generously provided for in the darkest hours by the love of God and the love of those around them. The miracle is that she has hope her husband is happy with Jesus and one day she'll see him again, restored and himself all because of the love of God that sent Jesus to die for her. The miracle is love. Love was not wanting in their lives. It was ever present.
I remember this one time when I was 18 years old I was in a government office waiting room waiting for my number to be called. You know those places are hell on earth, especially in a third world country. I began giving the gospel to a man sitting in front of me. He asked me how I could believe in a God I had never seen. "Oh, but I have seen Him," I told him, " He has been there, I have felt His embrace, I have heard His voice. I know He is real." That young girl said that with such conviction! He had been my Father when my father moved out of the house because of the divorce; and when I read in His Word that He would be my Father I never felt fatherless. I had never been alone after I read in His Word that Jesus promised to be with me all days until He returned. I felt loved when I read in His Word that He was preparing a home for me and had laid down His life for the ransom of mine. I felt His embrace when I cried alone at night and I read in His Word that we can console others because He consoles us. I heard His voice when I would pray to Him and His Spirit would bring His Word to my mind and give me all the answers.
The miracle is experiencing Jesus in your life. The miracle is living in His love, even with chronic pain or longing for His return. The miracle is knowing He is always with us, He cries with us and has cried with all of us who mourn Chele's passing.
Do I believe in miracles?
Jesus loves me, so... Yes! I believe in miracles.
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| Serving with Chele in the church band. It was always a pleasure serving with him, not just because he was one of the best drummers or singers, but because he always knew how to connect us to Jesus with his words and emotions. He sang for the King and it showed! |
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| Chele knew the kind of friend he had in my husband. I still remember him calling my husband at 3 am to help him move his sound equipment out of a venue. I would get upset that he always called Rodol, but Rodol would tell me he was his friend and he was there for him. I'm sorry we couldn't be there in his last years being so far away. |
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| You are forever in our minds and hearts. We are so sad that he left us so young. We will continue to lift Isis in our prayers. May the Lord console you and give you His peace and hope. |
