miraculous

mir*a*cle [mir-uh-kuhl]

-noun

1. an effect or extraordinary event in the physical world that surpasses all known human or natural powers and is ascribed to a supernatural cause.

2. such an effect or event manifesting or considered as a work of God.

3. a wonder; marvel

4. a wonderful or surpassing example of some quality

I often wonder about people who do not believe in a god.  Not neccesarily my God, but the people who do not believe in anything supernatural.  I believe in my God not because my parents "made me" or because He seems like the most trendy choice. 

I believe he is not only my God, but the God, and it is because I have witnessed

miracles.

The people who wake up each morning to a sun shining and birds chirping, but do not believe even these things are the works of God, are the people who seem to just amaze me.  Or the people who can't see God in the smiles of children.  The ones that lived the same summer nights as I did, feet dangling from an old wooden dock while we counted the stars that danced on the water.  Did these people really not wonder how those stars got there?  Or even

more, did they not wonder why the one star that shined the brightest is also the one that just so happened to be pointing exactly North?  Scientific phenomenon or God's direction?

I often think about these people and I try to understand their thoughts.

I have a terrible need for seeing the world through different perspectives.  I do not believe that anyone is neccesarily 'wrong' for thinking individually. 

One thing I am most known for amongst my peers is my attention to individuality and my desire to embrace all things unique.  I understand entirely that my upbringing and personal experiences are what shape my core values, my religous beliefs, and my degree of morality. 

Even though my background paints pictures of Sunday school lessons, mission trips, and big tent revivals, I deal with doubt and conflicting theories.  But, because of

miracles

I do not dwell on doubt because faith, strengthened by these extraordinary events in my life, surpasses all normal understanding.

I guess the trouble I have when it comes to understanding the thoughts of a non-believer is due in large part to the miracles that have shaped my life incredibly.

The easiest thing I could say is,

 'I wish all people could witness the miracles that I have witnessed,'

but that is not neccesarily true.

So, actually, what I will say is,

'I wish all people could experience the same overwhelming amount of glory that I have experienced by witnessing miracles.'

Instead, I want to be a living testimony that miracles do happen.

That miracles are not just awe, and wonder, and marvel, but they are

made by the hand of God. 

My God. Our God.

So here is my story......

If someone asked me what one, single experience has shaped my life more than anything else, I would not hesitate in my answer.  Above all else, my father's cancer diagnosis changed the course of my life more than anything else ever has.

Not only did I learn the value of family as a young 11-year old, but I learned the only way to be strong enough for life's biggest tests is to find strength in faith.

 I gave my life over to God.

Sometimes I look back at the course of those first eight weeks or so after my parents explained to me what stage IV non-Hodgkin's lymphoma was and what it meant for my family.  I know I was only 11 years old at the time, with hardly any clue as to what was about to play out in my life, but I remember almost feeling ashamed for not having a stronger faith before his diagnosis as I tried to fight off the guilt that spun around in my head.

I felt like I was bargaining with God.

I'll be a Christian; You heal my dad.  I'll be a better person; You give my dad better health.

I'll cleanse myself of my old life in that haptismal pool if you cleanse my dad's body of the cancerous cells that threaten the number of days I have with him.

Now, 11 years later, I have a better understanding of my development as a human.  Not because I am earning a bachelor's degree in the field of human development, but because I know that my thoughts and feelings I had then were only typical of a confused pre-teen.

I wasn't bargaining with God.

I wasn't trying to cut a deal with Him.

But, the funny thing is, we really did make a deal.  I made a promise, He made a promise.

In the years that stretch between today and the day that I let God take total control of my life, I saw God keep up his end of the deal more than once.

I restored my faith, He showed my family to an opportunity for my Dad to go on a clinical trial.  I went on mission trips, He provided my family with the time and money to travel to Houston, Texas where the best oncologists in the world treated my Dad at M.D. Anderson Cancer Center.  My family prayed together and attended events at First Baptist Oviedo every time the doors were open, and He made dream vacations to places like Whistler, Canada and Hawaii and Lake Tahoe a reality.

I gave my life to Him, He gave my daddy's life to me.

No one will ever be able to convince me that there is evidence that my father defied normal survival rates because of any factors other than his faith in the Lord.

Yes, my dad was otherwise healthy before he was diagnosed.

Yes, my dad was a young patient, considering it was Stage IV. He was 42.

Yes, my dad sought treatment at, arguably, the no. 1 cancer center in the world.

Yes, he has always been a good person, a hard working businessman, and a loving father.

But we all know too many "good" and "loving" and "hard-working" people that have

been taken from us too soon.

Children are diagnosed and unable to be treated.

Cancers spread like wildfire. Infections complicate even the "curable" cases.

Different things happen for all sorts of different reasons. But to keep it simple,

everything does, in fact, have a reason for happening.

My dad was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma so that my sister and I would find a relationship with the Lord.  Even more, so that He could perform a miracle in the lives of my family and so His work could be used as a testimony to change the lives of even more.

So as I live my life from day to day I use my many blessings as an example of the wonder and work that God has done in my life.

From the sun shining and birds singing to the stars that light up the Southern sky, I am aware of His existence.  Those are the things that others might not appreciate as a reason to believe, but they strengthen my faith and allow perserverance to continue witnessing to others.  When a conversation about my dad, or my life in general, opens a window of opportunity to share my testimony, I do. 

I'm not embarassed about being God-fearing.

I don't quiver if someone rejects the things I believe in.

I don't forget that we are all entitled to our own opinion and I don't shun the people who think individually or feel different about things than me.

I understand that not every life is shaped by the miracle of watching a man defeat the odds.

But my life is.

Even though I first felt like his diagnosis was the worst thing that could ever happen to someone, I have eventually come to understand that the enormous blessings I have received are a result of how we handled the arrival of those cancerous cells in our lives.

I am an example of God's promise.

I gave him all control and he comforted me, strengthened me, sheltered me, and provided for me.  He's given me more than I deserve, and the most important thing of all is he gave all of us a promise of eternal life if we trust in him.

Maybe it is the beautiful weather, the shooting star I saw when I was walking my dog last night, or the bloom of a wildflower in an unexpectant place, that has

reminded me to count my blessings.  Maybe it's the fact that all of these things are gifts from God and too often are they forgotten in the hustle of everyday life.

I went to a movie on Sunday night to see what I thought was going to be another sappy summer romance flick based on the book I started reading while on Spring break. 

Next time my mother tells me "Bai, you might have a hard time with that book" I will remember to have her tell me (specifically) "why" I might

be bothered by the contents of the pages.

Needless to say, the movie/book was deeper than any summer fling in that

a teenage girl cares for her dying father in the last few weeks of his life.

All I could think about as my cheeks provided the backdrop for a constant flow

of tears was my own situation.

I never had to be my dad's caretaker as his days fell limited.

I could have had to, but that wasn't in God's master plan.  My story told a different one.

As I layed down to go to sleep Sunday night, I prayed a different prayer than I usually tend to pray.  Instead of asking for something, I thanked Him for all the things He has already given me when I asked of them.

Mostly, for my dad's continued health and for a reason to believe in

miracles.

Maybe the reason some people do not believe in anything supernatural is because they haven't witnessed what I have.

Maybe their life didn't turn upside down as their precious loved one muttered "I have cancer" and therefore their life didn't turn rightside up the second they stepped foot on the Lord's solid ground.

I don't know if the inability to believe in God comes from science or ideology or fear of the unknown.  I just have a hard time looking back on the past 11 years of my life, with all it's ups and downs, and thinking of what it would be like if I had not been walking alongside God through it all.

I have a hard time believing that all the different flowers, the shorelines of the beaches, and the breath-taking views of landscape from the top of a mountain peak, are all because of some scientific phenomenon or coincidence.

My need to embrace my uniqueness and my individuality is at it's greatest when I

attend to what makes me who I am more than anything else.

My faith; my belief.

My God.

pEaCe&LoVe&fAiTh

Bjj