Recently someone asked me whether I thought miracles existed anymore. They referred to advances in modern medicine which seem to blur the lines between the miraculous and the conventional.
It’s a question I’ve considered from time to time. Was it God, or was it penicillin?
This is a real modern-day dilemma for residents of Western culture. Advances in medicine, manufacturing, engineering, and other technology have left a population scratching their heads for the use of religion at all, let alone acknowledging an Almighty God for their health and well-being.
But what if we stepped out of modern luxury and comfort and stepped into a place with fewer distractions—perhaps somewhere with less overall? Would we behold miracles more easily? Would the possession of clean drinking water be taken for granted as it is sometimes in the West?
It’s interesting how miracles can either be wholeheartedly believed or just as easily dismissed.
What are your thoughts? Do you believe miracles still occur?
A couple of weeks ago, I agreed to help a good friend pack up their house and move to another city. It was your typical move; the more we worked at it each day, the more work we felt each day.
Pull out. Sort. Purge. Pack.
A monotonous cycle that only wore us down. By the time we were ready to load the truck, we were pooped out.
Though our muscle men came and loaded the heaviest of the haul for us, when they left, there was still more than half of the house to load before sunrise the next day when the carpet cleaners would arrive to begin the cleaning process.
We were just two ordinary, middle-aged women. Bad backs, weak knees, and very little oomph.
Monday morning came, and with it came the disgrace of telling the cleaners to “do what you can” around all the remaining furniture and boxes.
To us, there just wasn’t a way. But that was not the case for carpet cleaner “Dave.” He looked at us, scratched his head, took a deep breath, and declared that he would load our truck!
This man worked like an ox for four solid hours as the temperature climbed steadily into the 100s. And by lunchtime, we looked around and saw that the entire house had been cleared out and loaded into the truck.
But Dave wasn’t through with us—oh no! He asserted that now he would clean the carpet. And if that were not enough, he did not want us to overwork ourselves with all the baseboard and window cleaning. Indeed, he would clean those too!
We could hardly believe what we were hearing. But as the afternoon drew on, we witnessed a small miracle before our very eyes.
Truck loaded. Check.
Carpets and tile cleaned. Check.
Baseboards, windows, cabinets and drawers cleaned. Check.
Dave met our most significant, most pressing need at that moment.
My belief is that this modern-day miracle was actually all arranged by God. After talking to Dave, we discovered that he had once had his own moving company. So he was very familiar with loading a moving truck to make the best use of the space available. And he was a Christian. He had once walked the challenging roads of addiction and divorce, but his heart had been made to walk in a new way because of Christ. And we could tell he was serious about following Jesus!
But what struck me most about Dave was his willingness to lay down all his commitments that day to meet our needs that morning. I’m sure it must have been a hassle for him. And it probably even left him with some sore muscles the following day. But he was willing, nonetheless.
I couldn’t help but be reminded of Jesus through Dave. Having access to all of heaven, Jesus became lowly by becoming human, not for His benefit but for ours. In fact, all of his healings, miracles, and efforts on earth were often met with heaping abuse and, eventually, death on the cross. There He laid down his own life so that we could be forgiven our sins.
Jesus has met our most significant, most pressing needs.
Hands down, Dave was a modern-day miracle for us that day. If it weren’t for him, we never would have been able to do all that was required for that move. It’s not often that we see sacrificial love being walked out in the lives of the ordinary.
But when I think about Jesus, sometimes His kind of love takes my breath away. He was perfect, yet He willingly chose to take on my sin. His once close fellowship with the Father became wholly shattered. He could have called down legions of angels to help him, yet He chose to endure the torment of death on the cross.
Because He died in my place, I can have peace with God. My sins are forgiven and forgotten. I am a co-heir with Christ in the kingdom of God. The righteous life of Jesus is now imparted to me. Not because I have done or will do anything to earn it but because He is simply that good.
His complete loss provided for my total gain.
Now, that is a true miracle.