First Miracle

Dear Stinkin’,

First Miracle

I lay on my stomach prostrate before the Lord. My heart beating in perfect rhythm to the words of prayer that rapidly traveled across my lips, tears freely flowed down my cheeks as I sent up a special prayer, my mind firmly fixed on the image of a tender young baby barely more than a year old. I begged God to please keep this little angel alive for he is sure to grow into a mighty man to be used for His purpose and his time here on Earth has not yet finished. For this young soul trapped inside the mortal body of a sick baby has not yet completed touching, changing and adding to the lives of all he comes into contact with. I didn’t just want this angel to stay alive, I needed him to brighten my world, the world of his parents and the world of everyone he meets. The dark crowded over me, the fibers on the floor soaking up my tears until my eyes grew too heavy to continue to look upon the day.

I woke up with the imprint of the rug etched into my face and the mumbled prayers continued throughout the day intermittently washed over with swells of tears that hushed my gentle pleas. Suddenly my heart quieted and as I frantically called upon a validation of what I already knew I dropped to my knees and thanked God for the verbal confirmation of the truth He’d gifted me through the phone lines. You’d made it through the night and you would every night there after. You were the first miracle of God I’d witnessed, you were the cured leper, the woman with the issue of blood suddenly run dry, the wedding refilled with wine, the sight given to blind Bartemeus. You were my first testimony of a time God miraculously answered prayers.

At two years old I watched again as you took teetering steps towards me, your face always aglow with the goodness of life. I choked back tears as I played on the floor with you, running cars over the human speed bumps of fingers and legs that got in the way. Scattering blocks across the living room when towers grew too tall or temptation grew too strong and they had to be knocked over. Falling asleep in my arms after a good meal or speeding around Toys R Us at an alarming pace throwing as many toys into the cart as possible while you alternated between squealing with delight and eying me wearily as I said yes to yet another request you made. You were the first miracle I witnessed. Witnessing the miracle of life that took place in you was my experience of watching man walk on water, the Red Sea part and Lazarus rise from the dead. You were my first testimony of a time God miraculously answered prayers. I saw God in you.

By age three and four your voice caused my heart to pitter-patter and loving you only caused me to love the Lord more because every pitch of your voice, every uttered word was a reminder of God’s miracle that He had performed. He used a child to train the minds of an adult more steadfastly upon Him, to remind me that God is omniscient and ever-powerful and that there is nothing God can’t do, including pull a child from the brink of death into these arms of mine. You woke up at 6 in the morning despite us just having fallen asleep at 3. You turned the quiet, peaceful existence of my home into a full-blown tornado within five minutes. You caused me to scream in terror as you leaped off the side of the pool into my awaiting arms, made me smile so hard I thought my face would crack as you chased my sister across the beach with a baseball bat, squawking back at the seagulls as they attempted to settle next to you in the sand. I watched in amazement as you moved closer to the edge of the tide pools, dangling your fingers to reach in and touch the trove of treasures that lay within. As I stifled a gasp I was reminded God used you to clinch my belief in the miracle of Jesus raising from the dead, the young boy’s lunch that fed the multitudes, the calming of the storm by the rebuking of waves and wind. You were my first testimony of a time God miraculously answered prayers.

You were the first miracle I saw God do, the first prayer I witnessed in my life being answered. You are my testimony, the reason I can lift my hands to the Lord with great confidence no matter what my situation looks like, comfort others in their time of need because I know God hears their prayers the same way he heard mine. You remind me of the miraculous healing God can do on the human body and solidify my understanding that no man can leave this Earth before his time is done.

You, Stinkin’, were the first miracle I whispered and every time I raise my hands in prayer I thank God for you and who I know you will become. You were my first testimony of a time God miraculously answered prayers. You were the miracle God used to make me believe.

Love Always,

Sunny

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