Rusty tried to sit through one more worship song but eventually gave up and left the building, making it as far as the attached prayer chapel before lying down on a pew there and falling asleep.
Now, I have a question for you. How would you define the greatest miracle Jesus could do in this situation?
Would it be Jesus instantly reversing anaphylactic shock and stopping the swelling from cutting off Rusty’s airways? Waking him up without a spot on his body?
How about if Rusty’s parents felt prompted to come and visit the chapel service that night. They saw his face and after hearing what happened, recognized that the nursing student wasn’t a good enough authority to make a life and death decision like this. Deciding then that they were going to take him to the hospital for a second opinion at the end of the next song if things didn’t start getting better?
What about the miracle of Rusty getting to spend eternity with his heavenly Father because of what Jesus did on the cross regardless of if he died that night or not? The promise of a new body, one that didn’t have the same restrictions as the one he had here on this planet still suffering from sin’s curse.
I firmly believe Rusty would have chosen the third option as the greatest miracle.
In my life I have experienced all three types and am grateful for growing in awareness to be able to see Him at work in everything from intervention that can’t be explained away, to “coincidences”, to having to work through the excruciating process of biblical lament (fully acknowledging feelings of grief, loss and anger to God and then allowing Him to slowly provide the perspective that shows He is still loving and powerful and we can still trust Him with our lives). In particular I think of Acts chapter 12 and the contrast between James’ and Peter’s stories.
Many of the stories I put up on this blog will be stories of God interacting with me. They are true stories and stories that I hope will encourage, challenge and increase understanding. I will be honest with you, only changing some names for purposes of privacy or safety. I pray that when I share a story of a time when God did an obvious miracle that if you are going through a time of grieving and wondering why your story is different that you won’t feel like I am suggesting that if you had only been like me it would have “worked”. Similarly I pray that when I share a story of how God did a miracle that I could only get glimpses of after years of lament and prayer that you won’t feel like I am suggesting that it implies God’s powerlessness or lack of love. I don’t know why He chooses the way He does sometimes. I do know that no matter how it seems, He loves us and we can trust Him.
Ultimately I’ll just be telling my story and trying to point to His enoughness, how He is the pearl that is worth any cost.