Miracles and doubts
The wrestle when things don't add up.
For those of you that have been here for a while, here is a personal update to follow up my previous post in which I stated I might not be posting publicly for an unknown length of time. For those who are new around here, welcome and buckle up!
It has been six months of holding our breath, wondering what is around the next corner. Bracing ourselves for the next nightmare that awaited.
It has also been six months of unexpected connections, breaking down barriers, mending old wounds, feeling held,
and one spectacular, I hesitate to say, miracle?!
I may have more questions than answers these days.
I don’t know what I think about prayers and divine action as a result of fervent entreaties made by humans. There is much mystery involved. I used to be the person who would confidently announce answered prayers and miracles, but I am not sure anymore. It seems to me we can never know why one person’s prayer seems to be ignored while another is claiming miracles as a result of their petitions.
Why, when a tornado comes through a town, is one house left standing while all those around are flattened? Didn’t most of those townspeople pray the same prayer even if they had never uttered a prayer before in their life? There are those who have claimed in similar scenarios that that particular home was saved because of the faith of its inhabitants, or because they had a cross posted on their front door. This seems more like superstition than faith to me. What about all of the others who also professed faith but had their homes destroyed. Did God not care about them also? This way of attributing such things to God only seems to indicate that he is capricious, unpredictable, and cruel. What of the families who prayed for their sick baby to live, only to watch them die? What about my friend who is walking through a very similar experience as me, and yet has a different ending? Another friend received the miracle of donated organs, with the painful realization that this meant someone else’s tragedy.
There are no answers that do justice to the pain of this world and the seeming silence of God. I don’t know how to reconcile these stories in view of Jesus’ words, “whatever you ask in my name, that I will do”1 or “the prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.”2
Merriam Webster defines a miracle as “an extraordinary event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs”. I wonder how we decide what constitutes divine intervention.
Even when I question the ways we interpret life circumstances in light of prayers, I will still continue to pray. I do know that prayer helps me release my vice-like grip on situations, people, and outcomes. Prayer reminds me that I am not the one in charge. I also know that prayer affirms the presence of God with me, right in the horror and ache. He sees and hears and co-suffers with us. These are results we can count on.
My writing friend, Thelma Nienhuis wrote beautifully about this here.
Beyond that, I do not know.
Individuals around the world were praying for our family over the past months and that care brought comfort and a gratitude-filled humility. Did the prayers convince God to work on our behalf and bring about a miracle? I don’t know.
I wonder if you can relate to these questions? The doubting and wondering? I’d love to hear from you.
How do we define “miracle”?
In some ways it feels like a multitude of wonders have occurred. We have gathered breadcrumbs on this journey and come to find our hands full. I might not name them miracles, but they have been evidences of presence.
And maybe that is part of my wrestle – that our understanding of miracles has been limited to mean only the large, logic-defying happenings. What about the many daily wonders of a text from a friend, the sun rising, fresh bread to eat, a walk that moves the stress out of our bodies just a little, a few stitches in the ongoing repair in the fabric of a relationship. These too seem like miracles to me.
So, we are thanking God, glorying in the good news and holding it all loosely.
We are grateful for every prayer, groan, and tear from those who prayed as we face what we thought impossible. Your companionship made a difference.
While all is not solved, that great boulder which landed in our hearts has been excavated. We are living in the tenderness of the aftermath. We still carry questions and struggle some days to feel the relief. I need the words found in the prayer of compline, “shield the joyous”, for it is difficult to remain in the joy of our new reality.
Here is a poem I wrote that expresses this difficulty, maybe it speaks to some part of your story too.
LET IT SINK IN
After an epidemic of losses
I hold my breath,
waiting for the next boot to fall.
(A shoe is too light for what I expect).
My heart has formed a shell
to protect its battered ventricles.
The sinoatrial node no longer
keeps my heart beating in time.
It races and plummets
as scenarios play in my mind.
And now,
Is it possible that the news is good?
Can I let it sink in?
Can this good get past my hardened heart?
“It may take some time”
I tell myself,
and offer compassion
to the part of me
that needed to harden
in order to make it.
While I wrestle with the idea of miracles and prayers, these are words I’m banking on:
“Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed,
yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken
nor my covenant of peace be removed.
(Isa. 54:10 NIVUK)
I attended a wonderful online writing retreat with The Way Back to Ourselves Community. It was just what I needed to jump start my writing again, and to feel seen and known in a company of fellow creatives. You too are always welcome there.
Poet Tanner Olson shared these words during that retreat and I wonder if perhaps they are all we need for today, “let grass preach peace to your skin”. In response, a blessing for you,
May the beauty of today–
the green of leaves and grass,
the feel of the breeze on your skin,
and the prickle of sod on the souls of your feet–
bring peace to your soul.
Be exactly where your feet are today friends.
If you find these reflections helpful or encouraging, I would so appreciate it if you would consider:
· Clicking the little heart at the bottom; this helps other readers find me.
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Thanks for being here!
John 14:13 NKJV
James 5:16b NIV
In the end, despite lots of confusions and questionings, I've still come home to the conclusion that prayer is never wasted. Don't know how, don't know why, but there it is.
"Why, who makes much of a miracle?
As to me I know of nothing else but miracles..."
That's Whitman, of course, a grand attitude and truth, if one has the eyes to sustain it. I can't. But every so often, it's there, irrefutably in front of me. As for prayer, sometimes I pray simply to be reconciled to a world in which prayer does not work. Other times, I'm struck by presence. Thanks so much for this post Sue.