The miracle I cannot see

She leaned in, touched my arm, opened her mouth and God spoke to me.

Right there in the middle of the party. Right there, drink in hand, after I had told her how difficult the last two months have been.

Praying so hard for the girl we thought was ours, asking others to pray, feeling the burden press down on my chest until my heart broke in the week before we heard it was over.

And I had to ask Jesus: What was that all for?

Why should I pray if this is the result? And what was that burning I felt to intercede if not for the miracle?

And then I shared just a sliver of this with a wise friend, and the Holy Spirit whispered to her and she said His words aloud: “You don’t know what your prayers did in her life. You just can’t see the difference they made.” She suggested that maybe we were matched with her, maybe all of it happened so that we could pray a miracle into her life at the moment she needed one.

Maybe the miracle happened, but it wasn’t for me.

And then we heard that the girl has been resettled, unexpectedly, with a family member. She is out of the orphanage. She is with family. And that’s all I wanted for her anyway.

Now instead of pain, gratitude. Instead of distrust, hope. Instead of disappointment, peace and awe that we could be part of her life at a time that mattered. That God would call us to love until it hurt, to intercede and see another sliver of his kingdom come.

And I wonder how many other miracles I miss because they don’t manifest the way I imagine? Because they’re not about me or in me or for me? How much more beauty and redemption could I be part of that won’t ever be about me? What a lovely, freeing thought.

Today, my friend Addie is right. The Resurrection is everywhere, if we just open our eyes to see its light touching everything we see.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>

*

7 comments on “The miracle I cannot see

  1. That Kristin, she’s a wise one. She lives close to the Holy Spirit.

    This is raw truth, Kim.

  2. LoveFeast Table says:

    Kim, looking forward to the rest of the story, ’cause I know there’s more to come! Love you…~K

  3. Amber says:

    “Maybe the miracle happened, but it wasn’t for me.” Wow. Such a raw, intense reminder of truth. It fills me with awe and conviction, to think of how many of these painful things we go through where we don’t see the miracle helped bring forth the miracle for someone else. That God would trust you, too, Kim… to walk through this pain and come out with your eye on the redemption and a heart full of gratitude and hope… this is something precious, too. Rejoicing with you in the glory of God in all this.

  4. HopefulLeigh says:

    Oh, friend. This gave me goosebumps. I love when Kristin has a word.

  5. Anne says:

    Kim, Love this. Thank you for sharing.

  6. stacey says:

    I absolutely love that second to last paragraph. How many miracles am I missing? I think often times we are part of the miracle and we don’t even know it.
    Thank you for sharing this.

  7. Elaine says:

    I don’t know how I stumbled upon this blog but I needed this right now. Coming out of a very similar situation. 4 of the most precious little girls on this side of heaven… and suddenly they were there with this incredible need and I was so scared. But I said yes. And oh did i pray! I prayed for them more often and more fervently than I have ever prayed for anyone or anything in my life. And then it was over and they were with family. And I am… sad? And even angry when I dare to dig deeper.
    Thank you for refreshed perspective. A friend told me the exact same thing your sweet Kristin did but my inward-tuned ears couldn’t hear Christ in them. Well I’m listening now 🙂