About Me | Books | News/Events | Book Reviews | Links | Home

“That Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the width and length and depth and height—to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge; that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.”
Ephesians 3:17-19

Wednesday, May 12, 2010


And in that day you will say, “Praise the Lord, call upon His name, declare His deeds among the peoples, make mention that His name is exalted. Sing to the Lord, for He has done excellent things.” Isaiah 12:3-5

God still works miracles. They are all around us and many times they go unnoticed. The work of His hand can be seemingly insignificant, like a tenacious little flower pushing it’s way up between the proverbial rock and a hard place. We might consider anything that grows as a miracle. It’s almost inconceivable to take a seed—a tiny portion of a dead, withered plant—and bury it in the dirt, only to have it spring forth with new-found life. Only God can bring life from something that was dead.

My white rose bush did it again this year. Last year I was astounded to find a half dozen red blossoms on my white rose bush. This year there have already been almost two dozen red roses. How does it do that? I’m not a rose horticulturist, so I have no idea how a white rose bush can produce red blooms. I like to think it’s a sweet mercydrop from God, telling me He isn’t finished performing miracles yet.

How many times have we stared in awe into the face of a newborn baby, marveling at the intricacies of the human body and God’s creation? Is there anything sweeter than hearing your baby’s first cry, or holding that precious little one in your arms? Yes, there is something sweeter...

Five years ago this Saturday, May 15th, I got the miracle for which I’d prayed for eleven years. My son Jonathan, who had wandered far from God, returned to the Savior he once loved and fell at His feet in repentance and faith. Oh, the sweet joy of that day! Was it better than the day I held him for the first time? Looking back, I had prayed for a child for five years when Jonathan was born. But I prayed for eleven years for him to come back to the Lord, so in many ways, yes, seeing this miracle for which I’d prayed so long was even sweeter than the day he was born. The longer we pray and hope for something to come to pass, the sweeter it is when it happens. Which brings me to one more miracle…

For the past thirty-seven years, my husband and I have been praying for his mother to trust Christ. For thirty-seven years she has refused to listen, hardened her heart, and rejected every witness we tried to present. For the past few years she has been coming to church with us, but it was more for the purpose of being with her son--my husband--than to learn about Jesus. So when she expressed interest in talking about salvation with my husband last week, we were ecstatic. I can’t find the words to describe my husband’s joy at leading his own 80-year-old mother to Christ last Thursday, May 6th. Mrs. Mary Stevens is a brand new child of God. Hallelujah!!

Some miracles are tiny, like a little flower struggling to grow. Some are commonplace, like the birth of a baby. But regardless of how many babies are born every day, the one you hold in your arms is a miracle. Then some miracles are answers to prayers over which we have agonized for years.

Take the time to look for the miracles around you. Don’t overlook them. You’ll miss an incredible blessing if you do.

Thanks for letting me share my heart.

No comments: