in a whimsical moment today, a question was posed in class, āWho has seen a miracle before?ā
āme! me! me!ā, the children chimed.
āwhat kind of miracle have you seen, darling?ā, I asked with bemusement as their hands shot up eagerly in the air, all ready to share about their experiences.
āone time my mummy couldnāt find a taxi at all, and I prayed for her, then the taxi came,ā one of them reported with wide-eyed innocence.
āthat time I was at the traffic light, and it was red. But I prayed and the light turned green,ā another boy reported with enthusiasm in his voice.
such simplicity, such childlike faith.
in viewing the small, minute everyday details that we have long passed over as part and parcel of life, these children showed me one important truth- a miracle is not marked by the size or grandeur of an āeventā, neither is it characterized by how much power is manifested from a supernatural occurrence. Rather, a miracle is defined by the level of trust we have in God, and the overflow of gratitude we have as we recognize His heart (not just His hand) behind the answers to our situations, regardless of how big and how small they are.
their faith gives me courage to say- I believe in miracles.
there you go, now you hear it. these words that I have found hard to speak.
and there is liberation in this confession.
weeks ago, I received a faith healing for my chronic pain condition from someone dear and highly regarded by me during a prayer meeting. I did feel an immediate sense of relief to the tension and breathing difficulties that I was experiencing that night and I know beyond a doubt that God had touched me that very night.
thereafter, I was supposed to write a testimony of thanksgiving (sorry B & A for my delay), but I struggled to find the right words to say. or rather, I had lack of faith to believe in the permanence of this healing, as I was weighed down by my clouded vision after years of endless struggle with this pain.
what if I gave thanks but the pain return? Will people ridicule my testimony? Will people doubt in the healing power of God? Will I be a bad witness instead should I continue to live in pain? These are the questions that consumed my mind.
strange and foolish as it may sound, I found it easier to buffer my heart from any kind of disappointment, should this pain recur, by believing that this is a āthorn in my fleshā that the Lord will grant me the grace to bear, so that my faith can be refined in Him. But was I honest about it? By no means! I wanted out. Who wants this kind of life? Not me.
despite my lack of faith and taciturn approach towards His healing grace, God is still faithful. I donāt seek to delude you by saying that the pain is fully gone. There are days when I still battle, tooth and nail, against a myriad of sharp tingling sensation from the top of my head to my very spine. There are days when I feel numb in my brain, barely surviving the moment as I struggle to breathe and function like a normal human being. But I feel a lot braver and stronger inside, in knowing that He is working in me as I reject the lies that have created a mental prison for me in the past. It makes the pain a lot more bearable, and each time I emerge, I feel a lot freer as a person in my soul.
this is the very miracle that I need to give thanks for.
perhaps there are people out there who are facing different kinds of battles and struggles. Perhaps there are people dealing with other kinds of pain far worse than what I have experienced, and trauma that others cannot easily imagine or empathise with. My heart goes out to you.
i donāt have the answers to lifeās toughest questions, but in all humility, I pray that you will see the āordinary things of lifeā, even the smallest of good in your situation as a miracle. Ā In that may your spirit soar, and you heart be light and free.
