Bringing the fish

God does bizarre things. He solves problems in ways that sometimes seem convoluted, confusing, and down-to-the-last-second crazy. The answer rarely comes in the straightforward way we’d imagined, yet it comes. Stories of these miraculous solutions abound — the check (or tax refund or bonus or raise) arrives the day the bill you thought you couldn’t pay is due. Doctors mention scary words like aneurysm and cancer and inoperable — so we do the tests and pray and suddenly, although the doctors can’t explain it, the condition is gone or the symptoms weren’t what they seemed. We lose a job and panic, worried about how to provide for our families, but then another, better opportunity presents itself and we wonder why we didn’t leave the old job sooner. He always delivers — somehow, some way.

For years I have read the Bible stories about the fishes and the loaves. Jesus fed 4,000 people with seven loaves and a few fishes, and then fed 5,000 from five loaves and two fishes. He’s not limited in His ability to provide, nor is the percentage of increase the same each time. But whatever it is, whatever He does, it’s always enough — and usually it comes with leftovers, too. Because we’ve read these stories in the Bible, and witnessed the way God has provided in our lives, no one has to convince us it’s possible. We know.

Sometimes, though, we overlook one fact. Someone had to provide the fish.

Sure, He can create something from nothing, and there are plenty of times that He does. But, more often, I think, God works with what we bring to Him. We must stretch our hands forth with our offering, literally or symbolically. We must plant a seed of giving with our tithe and offering money. We must put our own egos and desires aside in order to make room for His presence. We must offer Him our whole selves — bodies, heart, mind and soul — and mean it when we ask Him to use us. God will multiply. He will create. He will increase — when you give him what you have to start with. Don’t ever fall into the enemy’s trap of believing what you have is not enough, that God won’t come through because of your failings and weaknesses. Stand tall, and speak out loud: “Lord, I may not have much, but I come to you with the fish. Multiply it. Do your thing. I believe.”

A miracle-working God

Flipping through my journal, found this entry from July 20, '08. Mom was in chemo and had been diagnosed with small-cell lung cancer the month before. We didn't really know what would happen, and, frankly, the prognosis didn't look good. This is what I wrote:

Today, up in the choir loft while we were singing, I had my eyes closed, praying. Sandee was standing beside me. Suddenly I felt her hand pressing into my back and I heard her praying. I had to focus on blocking out what was going on around us, had to not worry how I looked and if anybody noticed and wondered what we were praying about. The truth is, I didn't know. Then she placed her other hand on my stomach and kept praying, crying...

Sandee told me later that God told her to touch my back — right there — and pray. She argued with Him but it was clear — DO IT. She thinks maybe it had to do with my mom. Mom goes in Tuesday for new scans and gets the results Thursday. Maybe God healed her — erased new growth, or progressed the amount of healing from the chemo, or something. Maybe He healed her; maybe He took care of some immediate pain or problem. I don't know. But how sweet of Him to use Sandee — and allow me to be a part of it — since I seem to be having such a hard time really praying right now.

I write this down tonight in the hope that I will someday look back at this and know this was a time of healing. Maybe complete, maybe partial. I don't care. I just want to see evidence of God in here, in this. I want to find hope and moments of rejoicing. I want to glory in the gracious, merciful healing powers of our Lord. I want my mommy to be OK.

A year later, I rejoice in Mom's continued health. God is so good. I'm so thankful that He urges me to write things down so I can look back later and know without a doubt what I was thining, what I prayed, and see the many miracles He brings into my life. They're there; we just don't always notice them.

Don't give up on the brink of a miracle

It never fails. I always pick the wrong line. I get behind the person whose item is missing a price sticker, or their debit card is declined, or the cashier needs a manager to ring in a coupon, or one of the eggs is broken and we have to wait for a stock boy to answer the page and get another carton. Or maybe it’s lunchtime and my cashier needs to count the drawer and cash out. The reasons are different every time, but the end result is the same: I wait there, fuming, as long as I can stand it, watching others fly by me out of the store, and finally I hop over to the other lane. Without fail, the moment after I do so, the problems are resolved. From that point on, the first line moves quickly and everyone sails smoothly through, while I stand at the back of the other line, which now has problems of its own. Then I kick myself for my lack of patience.

Sometimes I find myself giving up to soon in my spiritual life, too. A few months ago, we thought our house was going to sell. It had been on the market for almost two years, and we had an offer. I was sure God had answered my prayers. But then we went to our lowest number, and the buyer was at her highest number, and there was still a big gap in the middle. I was crushed. I couldn’t believe God hadn’t come through for me. I’d been faithful and patient. I’d trusted Him, and believed in His timing. I was devastated when I found out it wasn’t going to happen. I had believed so strongly that He had answered, that there was an end in sight, and then — nada. I was crushed, angry, and depressed.

Turns out, several days later, through a bunch of crazy circumstances, the house deal went through after all. I looked at circumstances and thought God had said no. He didn’t. It just didn’t happen the way I pictured it—in effect, I switched lines too soon. My impatience caused me to lose faith. I failed to remember that God’s ways are above our ways. He sees things we can’t even begin to imagine and achieves results we can’t fathom. So next time I’m about to cut my losses and jump on over to the next thing, I need to remember. No matter how impossible a situation seems, until God clearly tells us no, we need to keep the faith. We need to wait with expectation for the craziest, most innovative, unusual answers. Because if we can stay in the right place, the most amazing things will be waiting when we get to the front of the line.

Celebrating!

Mom had scans done this week... still cancer-free! So very thankful, so thrilled. Worst part? This means my dad and husband were right. They were convinced everything was fine!

Baking up delight

I don’t know what it is that makes it so fun to them, but kids seem to love to bake. For years, my children have come wandering in to my office holding boxes of cake mix or brownies, wanting to make something. I don’t think it’s just that they’re hungry for sweets; it’s the process they enjoy. Working alongside me, cracking eggs, pouring oil, the powdery cloud of flour that rises when you pour the mix into the bowl and start stirring, the delight when you turn on the oven light and see what’s happening. And the absolute joy when you pull the pan out of the oven and find it’s no longer a gloppy, runny mixture of messy ingredients, but a firm, golden, spongy cake.

The other night when I was praying, I realized that’s what God does: He lets us help Him cook. He asks for our prayers even though He doesn’t need our opinions about how things should be done and He doesn’t require our assistance. He is perfectly capable of making decisions on His own, measuring out justice and mercy and grace, and doing it all without making a mess. But when we come to Him in prayer, He’s allowing us to be a part of the process. It’s easier for Him when we’re not there to get in the way. It’s faster when we’re not bumbling around in the middle. And it’s much neater when we’re not there to drop things or grab the wrong ingredients. But the delight on our faces when we see what comes out of the oven—when we see prayers answered and hearts healed and lives changed and love prevailing, when we know that we were privileged to be allowed to be a part of it, and that even though we weren’t necessary to the process, He loves us enough to want us working alongside Him—well, I think that’s why He does it.

Almost here

According to my mom, when I was little and anxiously awaiting someone’s arrival, I would stand at the window and say “I almost see them coming!” I wanted to see them so badly that I just knew they had to be coming — almost. They must be right on the other side of the hill. Almost there, and all I had to do was wait. And if I hoped hard enough, and stared at the horizon long enough, it would happen. Sooner rather than later.

As adults, we can lose that sense of expectation. We become jaded, less willing to believe that what we’re waiting for is just around the corner. We think there must have been an accident, that someone got hurt, that the car ran out of gas, that the person got lost, that we could never rely on them to leave on time so they’re not really just over the crest of the hill, but they’re probably still miles and miles away.

At the women’s conference I just attended, someone taught that God has already said the Amen to our miracles. “Amen” means “so be it,” and the Lord has declared the answer, has provided the end to that time of need or suffering or pain. The reason time periods are mentioned over and over in the Bible is to remind us that everything has a time. There is a finite season for each trial, so of course there is always an end.

What that tells me is this: my miracle is not lost. It is not derailed by any kind of trouble, and it is not late in coming. It is right where it is supposed to be, and it is on its way. My job right now is to watch for it. To sit at the window, looking ahead, expecting, knowing that my miracle is just past the crest of the hill, and if I wait right there, it WILL arrive. Right on time.

Limited resources

I’m at a time in my life in which my finances are tight. My main client is having difficulties, and it’s been three months since I got my monthly retainer. I find myself going over my bills, prioritizing. If I only have so much money, I can only cover certain things. I have to look at the big picture, and try different combinations, and figure out which bills to pay from each check that comes in. I know, it’s simply basic budgeting. It’s what everyone has to do at some point in their lives. We make informed decisions, and then we do the best we can. Sometimes we’re fortunate and it’s not a challenge – there’s enough there to pay whatever comes in. And sometimes it’s like a gigantic, precariously balanced puzzle. Since I’m not independently wealthy, even when things are good, I’ll always be dealing with limited resources. There is never going to be enough for everything.

Besides money, I have plenty of other prayer concerns. My unsold house, which is contributing to our tight finances. My mom’s health, which is currently very good. My sister’s friend Teresa, who is being faced with a sudden, scary, serious diagnosis. My cousin, who was just diagnosed with breast cancer. Situations affecting my friends — conflict, hurt feelings, marriages that are strained, jobs that are iffy. There’s always something. Many somethings. Some more important than others, but they all weigh on us. It seems hopeless and overwhelming sometimes. Too much. Too, too much.

But here’s the thing. Our God is a big God. “Is there anything too hard for me?” he asks. No. But it gets even better. He didn’t tell us we had to pick just one thing to pray about. We don’t have to evaluate the situations, decide which is the most important, and give up on all the rest. We are not dealing with the finite, but with the infinite. He is the omniscient, omnipresent, all-powerful Creator. He can make something from nothing. He can form, design, mold, and invent. Even if our answer doesn’t exist yet, even if there doesn’t seem to be enough to go around. Our God is a big God. And His resources are unlimited.

All clear!

Mom had scans done this week to check and see if the cancer had returned, and the doctor said NO, IT HAS NOT! Her scan is clear and absolutely unchanged from the last scan she had on Oct. 29th. He even used the word miraculous, apparently, saying that her type of cancer rarely stays away this long. I think she's still in shock, but I'm busy praising God for this wonderful gift of health and time! Temporarily or permanently clear, it remains to be seen, but I know if my God can keep her healthy for these past two months, He can do it for the next two months. And the two, four, sixteen or even eighty months after that. Nothing is too big for Him, and nothing is too hard for Him. Even when we don't get the answers we think we want, it's certain that He still heard and answered. And as long as we allow Him to walk beside us, we can get through. But tonight I will sleep peacefully in His arms, thankful that my will aligned with His for this one very special request.