in the Good Book, in the book of Daniel, there is a story of men being thrown into a furnace for failing to worship a king over God. these men did not perish however, and all were amazed as they walked out to safety. one of the first thoughts to my mind is: 'where is this today? doesn't God show us these types of signs and miracles anymore?'
i believe it's an honest question, and i would also believe that God would encourage curiosity and honesty in seeking out who He is. i have done that lately, and really had challenged some of my notions as to what we should look for and how we could identify these 'miracles'.
my focus has been adjusted:
i remember the darkness. it wasn't a grassy field or clear blue sky that i remember when i nearly lost my life. it was darkness, and intense, pounding pain. on a physical, mental, and emotional level the very lowest point that i could be.
then, it was
life. not the grab a coffee and head to work life; i mean vivid, passionate, don't-take-it-for-granted
life. i knew i could never settle for less, when you taste something so fine, anything else is just too bland.
i've written about this incident in my life before, but this time, it's different. it's not about that story, or me, or the doctors. it's about
life.
through that darkness and pain, come two bright, beaming rays of
life. these little ones are our miracles, and the very proof i was searching for. their sheer existence is a divine statement of purpose and responsibility for the two of us, and we rest assured that in our newfound role as parents, we are not alone.
God delivered those men from a fiery death, and in a couple months, He is delivering two more precious lives into this world.
a miracle? a sign? oh they're here, they're visible, and in this case, they weigh 2 pounds a piece...