While I was in the early stages of my hospice time, my later-to-become pastor, Guy Ames of Chapel Hill United Methodist Church in Oklahoma City, visited me several times. It happened that he was starting a feature in the church newsletter called “Grace Happenings”. In his first column, he wrote about my miracle.
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Grace Happenings – Chapel Hill United Methodist Church
February 11, 2004
Inspiration and Perspiration
Grace Happens
Right before Christmas I had the privilege of witnessing a miracle, one of those events that logic and understanding don’t support. A family that has been related to our church for sometime saw a loved one go from health to the verge of death in just a few short days. Doctors told the family that nothing could save this life, not medicine, not amputation to stave off infection, not an extended hospital stay. Go home, call hospice and prepare for the end. So that is what they did. They went home.
People in our church and folks from far and near heard of the plight and did what could be done: there were prayers, prayer chains, cards, calls, even some meals delivered. We waited and watched and prepared for the end. Then I received a call…maybe a miracle was in the works.
Now for years I’ve lived in between observing the miraculous and the disappointing. So often I’m left as a pastor to try to offer some explanation for the reasons prayers haven’t “worked”. I preach series of sermons helping people to give some purpose to the hardships of life. I’ve presided over funerals of children and teens and young parents. None of that has fit very neatly into my understanding pf prayer and miracles.
My youth was spent with Christians who sought miracles on a regular basis. We prayed, we believed, we claimed, we expected miracles. Sometimes there were great reports, sometimes there were intermediate reports of good news. We looked for good news wherever we could find it. Some of my friends began to believe that quoting certain Bible verses ensured success in prayer, and if you did not experience their success rates then you must not have faith. To tell you the truth, there were times when I questioned my own faith in the midst of some of our family trials and illnesses. There was even a time in my ministry when I was afraid to pray for healing or blessings for fear that I would have to explain what was going on when the best didn’t happen.
Over the years I’ve come to believe that sometimes miracles do occur. I really can’t explain them easily. Sometimes they come to people I really don’t believe should get them, some real scoundrels. Quite often they occur with people who don’t have the kind of faith one would expect. The very people we expect to receive miracles are the very ones who seem to be left off the list. So you can imagine my surprise and delight and even a little skepticism when I heard that a miracle might be in the making.
The doctors were just as surprised as any when the blood poisoning could no longer be detected, and the gangrene began to sluff off and new skin was produced. Day by day this loved one improved. The joy that invaded the family cannot be overstated. They have experienced a miracle. Hospice has been sent away! Praise God.
I got to thinking about this. Life brings with it some really difficult times. So much so that one cynical group of folks have printed up a bumper sticker that reads, “Fertilizer Happens”. I think we need a new bumper sticker that acknowledges that in a world of the unexpected, sometimes grace happens. Sometimes God touches us when we least expect it. Sometimes good comes to those of us who don’t deserve it. Sometimes a blessing comes our way and we didn’t do one thing to bring it about. Sometimes GRACE HAPPENS!
I really complain when bad things happen. I wonder if I celebrate as much when grace touches my shoulder, my family, my friends. I’ve begun to look around for more of the grace happenings in our world. As a friend and colleague, Lesley Rose, would say, “God is good, all the time. All the time, God is good.”
Guy Ames
