Our family has grown accustomed to God granting miracles for my grandparents. My grandpa has had a heart attack, 5 bi-pas surgery, Encephalitis, mental recovery from the Encephalitis, a dangerous brush mower accident, a septic blood infection that had an over 50% chance of killing a 20 year old (he is 91), a second septic blood infection and pneumonia. The list goes on and my grandmother has had cancer three times, lives with a heart condition, currently has pneumonia… And yet whenever they approach death’s door, we pray and the Lord continues to grant us more time with them though my grandma is in her 80s and my grandpa in his 90s. And why not? They have served the Lord sacrificially these many years. We are used to such miracles.
But this week something occurred which gave me hope that perhaps God has miracles for the rest of us non-halo-clad individuals . My uncle was found unconscious in his home. He’d had a heart attack. In critical care they set him up on a machine to wait 48 hours and see if his heart just might start beating again. It was twitching, half of it. The doctors prepared the family to lose him. Even if his heart started up he would probably be a vegetable. And he was neither grandpa nor grandma. My aunt and uncle don’t fit the pretty Christian mold. He smokes! On purpose. She doesn’t teach Bible stories at church or wear dresses. But they are some of the most precious people to me.
One time when the hunky hubby and I were out on a date, we forgot all of our money. We arrived at the local drive-in-movie without the necessary $10 for admission. And so we went begging at my aunt and uncles house. They didn’t have $10 either. But that did not stop them. They dug through every random drawer, dresser, and couch cushion in their home until they scrounged up enough change for our admission. And coins in hand we went to the late night movie. My aunt has given everything for her 5 kids and their marriage is one of the few that I admire deeply. Life has not been easy for them, ever. But you can tell by looking at them together that their love is deep and honest. And my uncle lay dying and they didn’t fit the miracle profile and I lay at night wondering. “God, do you have miracles for those of us wearing jeans? Those of us who just keep loving and stumbling along and know you’re there, but just don’t seem to fit in with all of the other pretty pink sheep that volunteer and actually own a pair of nylons.” Perhaps my aunt owns nylons…but I don’t and I was curious for myself as much as for her.
At 2:00am my uncle, who was as good as dead, sat up. Asked what he was doing in the hospital and proceeded to assure the startled hospital staff that he was not brain dead. Well if you asked my relieved aunt she would have probably hugged him fiercely and whispered “At least not any more than normal.” So apparently the answer is yes. Yes Kristen. God’s hand is on you. Even now. Even when you don’t measure up. His love is sure in tragedy. His love is sure in joy. He is love and He is God.