LEARNING TO ASK FOR MIRACLES

Molly Owens, Orlando, Florida, USA

Tonight, I saw a miracle. Our sweet one year old, Lucy, chewed and swallowed her first bites of baby food. It brought me to tears. You might think I’m joking as you read this, but I’m not. My three year old, Luke, who was sitting beside us at the dinner table was wondering why Mommy cried. Our discussion went something like this.

Me: “Luke, how do you feel when we pray to see garbage trucks on the road and then you see one?”

Luke: “I feel happy!”

Me: “Mommy feels so happy because she prayed for God to help Lucy chew and swallow and God gave Mommy an answer to her prayer.”

It has been a year of grief and sorrow and joy and bliss. Lucy’s first birthday filled me with many emotions. Lucy was born in January 2021 and, for the first couple of weeks, she nursed well and gained weight. Then she slowly and steadily declined despite our efforts to intervene. For six long months, we struggled through weight checks and doctor’s appointments. Each time, we grew more alarmed about her lack of weight gain.

At six months old, Lucy only weighed two pounds more than her birthweight. She was happy and vibrant in her spirit; never complaining, full of smiles. At her six-month appointment, Lucy’s pediatrician wrote referrals for bloodwork and ordered a specialist consultation to rule out possible causes of Lucy’s weight gain issues. We had the bloodwork taken and, a few days later, we had her specialist appointment. When the specialist doctor walked into the room to meet us, he didn’t notice Lucy’s smile or cute outfit. He looked scared for us. The bloodwork results came in that morning and, right away, we were rushed for emergency admittance to the children’s hospital. I called my husband and our pediatrician crying. That was not what I was expecting that day. Reflux medication, sure. An urgent hospital admittance, no.

Perhaps you’ve experienced that drop in your stomach. The dry mouth. The blood pressure spike that accompanies bad news. The flurry of people moving around you and talking to you and decisions needing to be made. You attempt to make logical decisions but, instead, you just want to scream and cry.

The Presence of God

It is in these moments I am comforted by the promise of God’s presence in Psalm 139:

“You have searched me, Lord,

    and you know me.

You know when I sit and when I rise;

    you perceive my thoughts from afar.

You discern my going out and my lying down;

    you are familiar with all my ways.

Before a word is on my tongue

    you, Lord, know it completely.

You hem me in behind and before,

    and you lay your hand upon me.”

(v. 1-5)

Psalm 139 has been a lifeline for me over the years. I have carried it in my pocket through many storms and stages of my walk with God. Psalm 139 directed me in college when I struggled with self‑esteem. Psalm 139 has been a balm to my heart in lonely seasons of singleness. God has gifted it to me in times of grief and uncertainty through death and loss. And now, especially in this current storm of life, Psalm 139 gives me words when I do not have the strength to sort them out. How do you pray when there is raw pain to work through? Psalm 139 has become a map that guides my heart into the presence of God when the pain is too much to see through.

God knows the words of my mind, heart, and soul even when I can’t speak them. But I am so grateful that our Lord knows the mind and needs of MY CHILD too, even when she is too young to tell me herself.

He is in the room – ever present. He is in me – ever working. Thank you Lord for the unbreakable closeness You give us.

“Where can I go from your Spirit?

Where can I flee from your presence?

If I go up to the heavens, you are there;

if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,

if I settle on the far side of the sea,

even there your hand will guide me,

your right hand will hold me fast.

If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me

and the light become night around me,”

even the darkness will not be dark to you;

the night will shine like the day,

for darkness is as light to you.”

(Psalm 139:7-12)

We were in the hospital for 17 days. Each day held new test results, medical theories, fears, impossible prayers, and hopes. Our hospital room began to feel smaller and smaller as we wondered how long Lucy would live and what quality of her life would be possible for her. Some hours we felt surrounded by darkness. Some hours we rode on the wings of the dawn. Yet God was always right there.

When Lucy did exit the hospital, she brought with her multiple diagnoses all linked to an underlying metabolic disorder and chronic illness. There were more questions than answers. Even now, there is much to learn in how to best help her with her challenges. There is no known cure for the rare condition that Lucy has, but it can be managed and she has the possibility of a beautiful life. We have felt great relief and joy. Lucy’s condition poses great risks around every corner and life can feel fragile if mismanaged. We have felt great anxiety come in waves, yet we are learning to continually bring our needs to God in prayer.

The Faithfulness of God

In the midst of so many answered prayers and miracles this past year, life continues to feel vulnerable, raw, and it is always tempting to fear. To calm my heart and choose faith each night, I have relied on my favorite psalm. I have found myself praying Psalm 139 over Lucy during her bedtime routine. The same psalm that helped me surrender my fears to God in college so long ago, now helps me trust Him with our little girl and her future.

“For you created [her] inmost being;

    you knit [her] together in [my] womb.

[We] praise you because [she is] fearfully and wonderfully made;

    your works are wonderful,

    [We] know that full well.

[Her] frame was not hidden from you

    when [she] was made in the secret place,

    when [she] was woven together in the depths of the earth.

Your eyes saw [her] unformed body;

    all the days ordained for [her] were written in your book

    before one of them came to be.

How precious [concerning her] are your thoughts, God!

    How vast is the sum of them!

Were [we] to count them,

    they would outnumber the grains of sand—

    when [she] awakes, [she is] still with you.”

(Psalm 139:13-18)

In the months since her first hospital stay, Lucy has steadily gained weight. She has kept her happy demeanor and gained some spunk due to an increase in her energy level. The types of things that are noted as miracles in our family are different from most. We’ve asked God for miracles about the most basic of developmental tasks because of her setbacks. We have lists of answered prayers. We’ve seen God answer kindly and quickly again and again. When physical therapy services were delayed and Lucy still wasn’t rolling over at seven months old, I asked God to teach her Himself since He made her (Psalm 139:13-16). And He did! She rolled over the very same day I realized that I should ask Him in prayer (that was a humbling moment!). I should have asked sooner. Soon after, we asked His help for Lucy to sit up and crawl. We waited and watched God deliver. If not for the lists we have kept, we would have lost track of the generous way God has answered our prayers.

The Kindness of God

And so here I arrive back at today, having seen an answered prayer that brought me to tears – Lucy’s ability to chew and swallow solids. This prayer has been requested from God for a couple of months now. Each time Lucy has choked on her food, we have prayed for God to calm her and teach her how to eat. While driving to consults and filling out paperwork to be matched to providers who can teach chewing and swallowing skills, we have prayed. Today, when Lucy started swallowing and I cried, we still hadn’t been matched to a healthcare provider; but God is above all of that! God has been our first responder and nothing has been too small or silly to ask of Him. A miracle is a miracle, and we have a keener sense for recognizing them these days. We have lists of what He has done for us this year and I’d be happy to share more when we meet someday.

I pray that our story encourages you to pray the prayers you have held back in your own situation. Even still, I feel quite weak and feeble this year. My emotions are everywhere depending on the hour, but I have seen God’s gentleness and kindness. I am learning that He eavesdrops on my heart’s cries and meets needs even when I’m too much of a mess to remember to ask Him for help. My son asks God for “dump trucks” and “trash trucks” when we drive around town and I ask Him for baby mealtime successes. I’m grateful that we have a Father who wants to “hem us in” and lovingly “leads us in the way everlasting.”

Be so bold as to thank your Father, who knit you together in your mother’s womb. Thank Him for how near and involved He is with you. He remains involved outside the womb. Thank him for the courage and comfort that his nearness allows in all circumstances. Invite Him to search you and know your thoughts. Allow yourself to be known by Him and know Him more. Let Him test you and know your anxious thoughts. He can see the offensive ways in you, and He will graciously show you what needs to change. He can help you change. May He lead you in the way everlasting. Thank Him for giving you Jesus, His Spirit, and His very self as a good Father. Recall how He has provided a way for your eternal life with Him and believe that He will show continual tenderness in helping you make it home.

Author Molly Owens has been a disciple of Jesus for 13 years and has been married for seven years. Molly has served in the ministry alongside her husband, Tyler, for 4 years in Orlando, Florida. Together, they are raising two sweet munchkins: Luke (3) and Lucy (1) and one messy poodle. Molly enjoys exploring new places, sitting in nature, and learning how to garden.