I love hearing stories of miracles. Unexplained healings, unexpected blessings, last-minute provision. These stories remind me of how mighty, faithful, and grace-filled is the God we serve.
But what happens when our own lives aren’t filled with these stories? Does it mean we are less deserving, less faithful, or less loved?
Life is not just one journey; it is a collection of journeys. My husband and I have been married for nearly nine years. We had our own independent journeys before we met, and have been on a number of journeys together over the last decade. We have been on spiritual journeys, career journeys, a relational journey, a parenting journey, a financial journey…the list could go on.
And as we’ve wandered through these journeys a part of us has always been waiting for the miracle. The miracle that would signal that this particular difficult journey was over, that life would be easy, and that God had cared about us enough to drop whatever particular blessing we were hoping for at that moment right into our laps.
But it never came. It still hasn’t.
The one thing we have come to realize in the recent months is that we need to stop waiting for the miracle. We hope for things, we pray for things, we wait for things – and we wait for our dreams to come true and to feel like “we made it.” As we take the time to reflect on the journeys we have been on and look back on how far we’ve come, we have begun to realize – those have been our stories of miracles.
But instead of the type of miracles where the blessings of God tumble over us like an avalanche, we have been riding a glacier.
Glaciers move mightily but nearly imperceptibly. Their pace can be painfully slow, but over time they powerfully carve out valleys and move mountains, leaving unparalleled beauty in their wake.
This has been our story.
So now we stand on the glacier and look back over the vistas behind us and behold the beauty that was created in the power of the long, slow journey. And we look out on the rugged terrain before us and know that the glacier is still moving. But if we wait for something “big” to happen right now, we miss out on the process of watching the mountains before us being slowly ground into sand.
A miracle in itself.
Thank you, God for moving the glacier. And thank you for letting us ride along. We’re not waiting for the miracle any more. Because you’ve been working it all along.