When we read about miracles in the Bible, we think of blind men seeing or lame men walking. In Joshua chapter 10, the sun stood still as a result of a godly man’s prayer. In the gospel accounts, Lazarus is raised from the dead. Jesus ordered the storm to be still, and it was so.
A widow woman in 2 Kings, chapter 4, had no money with which to pay her creditors, and the man was coming to take her sons away to be his slaves in payment of the debt. She needed a miracle, and sought God on behalf of her sons. Elisha, the prophet of God, asked her what she had in the house. The only thing of any worth was a small jar of oil. Elisha told her to gather as many vessels as she could find, and admonished her, “Do not gather just a few.” He then instructed her to begin pouring out the small jar of oil into all the larger vessels. She filled every vessel until she said, “There is not another vessel.” And the oil ceased. I wonder, if she had gathered dozens, or hundreds more vessels, would God have filled them all?
For eleven years, I prayed for “my miracle”. My son had turned his back on God, and denied the Savior who he once loved. I agonized in prayer for my son, lifting him continuously to the throne of heaven. Sometimes I grew weary in well-doing, and God asked me, in essence, “What do you have in the house?” Everything of worldly value fell away, worthless. There was nothing I could do in my own strength to bring about the miracle for which I so earnestly prayed. The deepest desire of my heart, “my miracle” was to see my son return to the Lord. So I gathered all the vessels I could find, and continued to pray.
Then in April of 2005, our son was diagnosed with cancer.
Faced with his own mortality, he heeded the whisper of God’s voice. A dear friend, Brother Tim Butler, drove for hours to come and spend a little time with Jonathan and talk to him about his relationship with God. The oil poured out into the vessels and did not cease. I continued to pray for my miracle.
On May 15, 2005, the telephone rang. Jonathan had kept a divine appointment with Jesus. Led by the Spirit, and carried by the prayers of those who loved him, Jonathan bowed his knee and his heart to Jesus once more. He fell at Jesus’ feet in repentance and faith, and gave everything–his heart, his life, his cancer, his every breath–to God. My miracle was a reality.
Jonathan didn’t try to “make a deal” with God, only promising to serve Him in exchange for healing. No, he was determined to love and praise God regardless of what happened with his cancer. The vessels were filled to overflowing. The oil spilled out on everyone who knew Jonathan, and all the glory belongs to God.
In January of 2006, Jesus came for Jonathan and carried him Home. I still miss him terribly, but because of my miracle, Jesus promised I will see him again
I have my miracle. Thanks for letting me share my heart.