Miracles Disguised as Trials

There's a beautiful story in Mark 2: 3 - 12. It is about one of Jesus' many miracles that He performed while on the earth. In my own words, it is about a man who was sick with a palsy who was brought to Jesus in a crowded place by lowering him on his bed through a hole in the roof. The first thing Jesus did was to forgive him of his sins. Then the people standing around watching began to criticize Jesus saying that He did not have the authority to forgive sins. Jesus asks them if it is easier to forgive his sins or to heal his physical ailments. And then Jesus also heals him of his palsy and he gathers up his bed and leaves.

Putting myself in this man's place, I think he must have been begging to see Jesus. He, and his loved ones, must have desired this so much that they were willing to climb to the roof, remove the tiles and with ropes four of them lowered him into the building where Jesus was. If he was a true believer, and he must have been to have ultimately been healed, he would not have had an agenda to the visit. He would have HOPED for healing, but he would not have expected it. He would have left it to the Lord to decide what He would do with him. I imagine that when the Lord pronounced his sins forgiven, he must have felt the most warm, peaceful, forgiving feeling. His soul at that moment became as white as snow though his sins were as scarlet. The burden of all of his past wrongdoings were taken from him and he didn't have to bear them any more. Whatever he expected while being lowered in to see the Savior, the feeling of having his sins lifted from him must have been an incredible feeling! So liberating! So full of relief! And then to have his physical suffering suddenly relieved also must have been the icing on the cake, so to speak. I wish I could have seen him walk and dance out of the building. I wish I could have known what he did with his life after "his miracle."

So many times we are so focused on the minute details of a day to day trial that we don't view it as a miracle until it's over. The other people that witnessed this man's miracle were only focused on the outward appearance of a miracle... only what they could see. How could they possibly have understood this man's complete transformation, inside and out? How often do we forget where we were and how far we have come? How quickly we forget the baby steps we took to get to our own miracles. Do we pay attention to the small miracles that the Lord sends us every day?

When Becca was born, all we knew at first was that her head was very small. A day or two into life, she needed extra help to keep her oxygen levels up where they needed to be. Within the first week, we discovered that her brain and other assorted organs had been attacked by a virus while she was still growing within me. After a few more days and a bout with RSV, we were sent home with a baby with unknown potential (like every other baby) and also a damaged brain, oxygen tubes, monitors and behaviors that soon led to other diagnoses like Cerebral Palsy, Vision impairment, Hearing impairment, Nonverbal, Seizures, etc., etc., etc. (very unlike most other babies)

Looking back, I can remember a lot of hard days and nights... a lot of really hard news to hear... a LOT of prayers and fasting and pleading with my Heavenly Father to let me keep my child. The pervading sentiment I felt to my very core was that if she was supposed to stay, she would get to stay, but that I wasn't in charge, Heavenly Father was.

We got to keep her. She's still here. And she suffers ...sometimes a lot. She has limitations so numerous and varied that she is in a physical category with 4 - 6 month old babies. Mentally, who knows? I think she understands far more than she's able to communicate, but I can't prove it. :) Nowadays, she is comfortable and healthy and very, very happy MOST of the time. When she is not any of these things, it's a guessing game to discover the problem and fix it for her. I rely heavily on my Heavenly Father and the whisperings of comfort and inspiration that come... if I'm ready... if I can hear them... if I'm listening.

I would be an extremely ungrateful daughter of God if I forgot where I came from. If I whined about the things I go through now when I prayed so hard to keep her in the first place. If I forgot the miracles that got me here.

Do I forget? Yes, sometimes. Do I cry in the middle of changing a diaper because the weight of how many diapers I have changed in my life and the diapers that I have yet to change in my life seems never ending? Yes! Do I fret and worry about the looming dark lord of cerebral health, namely seizures? You bet I do! Do I ever have pity parties full of statements that all add up to "Poor me," not even "Poor Becca?" Yep!

Eventually, a loving Heavenly Father always reminds me about my own miracles. He lovingly gives me moments with my Becca that make ALL the other gobbledygook worthwhile. He doesn't take the hard stuff away from me and He doesn't stop my growth by stepping in and doing it for me, He just subtly strengthens me and hugs me when I'm down and sends me angels (both Heavenly and Earthly) to help me along my way.

What a wonderful, desirable blessing that man received by being able to walk out of that building. And what an even greater, more pervasive, loving, comforting feeling he must have had to know that he was clean and pure as well.

When it is Becca's turn, she will RUN into the waiting arms of loving family and friends that have gone before her. I have a LOT more work to do to be able to be with her. And by golly, I hope I have enough marks on the good side of the chalk board and that I've done a good enough job repenting for the marks on the bad side to be able to be with her for eternity.