Slow Miracles

I must confess that my prayer life has been rather sporadic and rather un-spectacular. At times my devotion to prayer has been extended and consistent. Many more times it has been the opposite. But even in the best of times, I cannot recall very many miracles being harvested as the fruit of my efforts.

Much of the blame falls to me, for I cannot expect great things to happen when I have allowed my devotion to falter. But you would think that amazing things might pop up once in a while. Even as I have prayed in concert with others for high and noble things, it has been rare that we have witnessed a "miracle."

My frustration stems from that lure of a "miracle around every corner" sense that the Bible conveys. I realize that we have, in Scripture, an extended account of peak events separated by many years of quietness and inaction. But still, would it be so much to ask for a resurrection or a parted sea every couple decades or so?

As I write, I know several people in dire need of healing. Cancers, paralysis, emphysema, addictions, relationships falling apart, and on and on. In my estimation, each one could be so much more effective for God's Kingdom if they could be whole. And yet, no miracles.

On the other hand, my estimation is restricted by my vision and my very limited knowledge. Some of these lives are having greater impact in their affliction than they may have had in their full strength. Reminds me of someone else - see 2 Corinthians 12:7-10.

Some individuals for whom I am praying seem to be in the process of healing. Call it a slow miracle. No one expected them to be where they are at this point, and yet they are defying the hypotheses of medical experts. Only time will tell if in a month, or a year, or several years they may not be fully healthy.

Still, slow miracles aren't as much of a rush as those instantaneous "Rise up and walk!" wonders done by Jesus and His apprentices. But are they any less indicative of the power of God because they may take longer?

This morning in our men's Bible study group, we read through Genesis 15 and noted the repeated promise to Abram of a family that would emerge from his own flesh and would gain the land of Canaan and be a blessing to the world. He received the promise at the age of 75, but didn't have the son of the promise until he was 100. Twenty-five years. Was it slow in coming? By my clock, no doubt. Was it by God's power? No doubt.

Our frustration with slow miracles is probably largely culturally based. We live in an instant society, so God should be at least as efficient as we are, right? And maybe that is why God makes us wait for His power to be seen, because we are so prone to expecting the immediate. Folks living in ancient times were familiar with waiting because technology hadn't conditioned them otherwise. An instant miracle was eye-opening. The twenty-first century citizen would probably be far less amazed with the fast miracle than the slow one, eventually expecting God to keep up the pace of quick miracles. Instead, we learn through waiting that the goodness and the power of God is rich, especially after times of inactivity and doubt. His slow, but consistent, power comes as refreshment to souls who have been waiting. We grow in hope as we grow in patience. The miracle is not just the healing of the one for whom we are praying. The miracle is also in the transforming of our own hearts and the opening of our own eyes. We, too, have been made whole along with those on our prayer list.

Lord, may I be rebuked when I judge the majesty of Your miracles according to my timetable. May I have my cold heart warmed, and my cemented eyelids opened to the glory of Your restoring hand in the times when You work, no matter how quickly. May I never fail to hope in You.