Miracles

{Missed the previous posts of our Journey to Faith story? start HERE}

~~~ Flashback Post ~~~
Miracles (February, 2015)

Over the last several weeks the topic of miracles have been brought up more than once. I work at a church, so it's not that this is an unexpected topic, but I also would say it's not something talked about much beyond the basic Bible stories.

The initial conversation was the day following our phone call with our blood work results. That dreadful next day at my desk, where I sat as unemotional as possible, giving those I work with a brief update of what we now knew would be happening. This updated including the words funeral home, setting up appointments with a special team to make our birth plan, and a possible palliative care plan… 

My friend stopped me and just stated “But you don’t know that that’s really what’s going to happen, you don’t know what God has in store”… basically the “don’t put the cart before the horse” logic…

Which I get.. I do. But I continued the conversation with my rational.  It's not that I don’t believe in miracles, I honestly do. I completely and totally KNOW God is ABLE and CAPABLE to perform miracles. I also believe He “more than likely” will NOT grant us the miracle of a healthy pregnancy and baby after birth.

I’m not naive enough to boldly say “I believe in God, and I believe in miracles, so I believe this WILL turn out perfect and exactly how me, myself, and I want it to turn out, because God CAN and DOES still perform miracles..." Only then having to reel in the reality and disappointment at the end (or at whatever point this comes to an end) because my believed in miracle was in fact NOT granted.

I believe, but I’m also a realist, and I have a long track record with God, and in all my years, I have learned the hard reality that my earthly hopes and wishes are rarely the realities God is going to grant me. My heart hurts enough already right now, I cannot set up myself up for any more hurt on purpose that I could have shielded myself from.

About a week later we began talking about miracles again. This time initiated by our pastor, as we were talking about his upcoming sermon. He had a statistic about how many people don’t believe miracles still happen, and we again continued on a conversation very similar to the week before.

I kept thinking about it long afterward.

And then it hit me. A miracle DID happen. The miracle of this moment, this journey... was the actual moment of conception. For over a decade we tried to achieve a pregnancy with years of intentional doctoring and treatments. With my total history of nearly seventeen years of infertility after miscarriage, achieving a pregnancy in-and-of-itself is, in fact, an absolute miracle.

It was just the split second after, that everything went drastically wrong. The fall of man, the envelopment of sin, occurred immediately after the granting of the miracle. The first seventeen chromosomes split in two and then bam...

Chromosome eighteen was struck with destruction as it split three ways instead of two. End of miracle. Beginning of utter disaster and heartbreak.

Click HERE to continue to our next journal entry.