The definition for the word miracle is “a highly improbable or extraordinary event, development, or accomplishment that brings very welcome consequences.” And with full assurance and unwavering faith, I can say that I’ve seen a miracle happen before my very own eyes.
The song “Miracles” written by Chris Quilala has a chorus that sings..
I believe in you
I believe in you
You’re the God of Miracles
And on Tuesday June 27th, the day before announcing that I was going on the world race, I found myself while driving, declaring this song over myself. I had no idea how much this song would mean to me like it did for Chris Quilala as he wrote this song after a drastic loss to declare that even though he and his wife did not see a miracle, God is still the God of the miracles. Even though we don’t always see the miracles we pray for, we can declare that God is still the God of miracles and He has a better plan. I would be doing an injustice to not share of the miracles He does. Here’s my first hand of a face to face with the Father’s hand.
Where do I begin?
I find myself trying to describe the intensity and the passion and the experience that I had from and up to the point of leaving for this training camp for the world race. Yet, I find myself struggling. As I continue to think about, it begins to make sense in my head. How could I describe something in human words that’s such a God thing? I simply can’t. But I can do my best to describe my experience. But where do I even begin? I guess we’ll run it down from the beginning.
It’s January or February of 2017 and I’m in my freshman year at the University of Alabama when I begin to hear about this thing called the world race gap year. My immediate thoughts as I read about this are “Haha I could and would never do that. That’s a little much for me.” But as I go on with my semester, it seems as if I can’t forget about this opportunity and my thoughts are brought to a place of consideration. I open up an application in March and make it about halfway through to find myself lost in the busyness of life in college. I begin to shut the door that seemed to be opening. I then forget about it and apply for a short term trip to Moldova and I begin fundraising for this trip that will be from May 25 to June 5. Shortly after, I find myself fully funded and what I think is ready to take on Eastern Europe. Next thing I know, it’s time to head that way and I’m on the way to my first mission trip.
God wrecked me. 10 days go by quickly and it seems as if I blinked and it’s time to leave. The thing is, I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to leave a life of no distractions pulling me from God. I don’t want to leave this community that so hungry for something more than this world. My heart hurts. My soul aches. I arrive back to America happy to see my family but with an aching desire in my heart to go back. I’ve seen the hunger and thirst for Christ in those that have nothing to cling to like a life of everyday school and tv and sports. I also have the source of the food and the water people are longing for across the world. I feel like I’ve gone through a break up and I had no say so and simply had to go through it alone. I get back from my mission trip and I lay down heartbroken. Immediately I apply to the world race with just the least bit of hope that this might work out.
After I finish my application, I lay down feeling as if a piece of my heart had slowly been put back together. After a couple weeks and one missed phone call interview, I get my phone call interview finished. The next Sunday, June 24, I get a call notifying me of my acceptance. My heart begins to weigh lighter as another door opens. I had called my mom earlier in March saying that I was considering the world race expecting that I might have to reason with her about this opportunity to which her response was “Ok. Cool.” So immediately again, she’s the first phone call I make. I’m on the way to Tuscaloosa for summer schoolwork so I call her to tell her and lone behold, I get the same response. Except this time she reminds me that this opportunity might not work out exactly how I had planned. I had already signed an 11 month lease for a condo at Alabama for school. Again, my heart drops. I tell her I’ll make the effort to go by the realtors office the next day to ask about my options. So Monday, June 25, I walk into my realtors office thinking about how this could never work out and it was silly of me to attempt the world race. With belittled hope, I ask the desk attendant what I can do about breaking my lease to which she says I’m chained to an 11 month contract to pay each month and that I could only put it back on the market with just the CHANCE that someone might try and get it. I ask if maybe I could talk to one of the realtors about it. I go into the back office with some realtor that was not even the right realtor for my property. To which I ask this realtor if I could put my single bedroom condo back on the market. And then this realtor, not even the right one for my property because mine was not in the office, informs me that someone called and asked HER for if there was a single bedroom condo at MY property available because they wanted it. My jaw dropped as I signed the paper to relinquish my lease. I immediately called my mom and told her as her thoughts joined in unison with mine as we were in astonishment. But then the next problem came up, I can’t lose my scholarships. I called the scholarship desk of University of Alabama with another small ounce of hope that something might work out. They would inform me that my scholarship could be set aside and kept for one year as long as I don’t take classes at another school. Again, my jaw dropped. My heart felt slowly as if it was being put back together and it began to finally click that God’s hand was on this. I couldn’t believe it. Another seemingly closed door opened as I simply touched the handle and gave it a twist. But the next and biggest challenge yet remained.
Wednesday, June 28th, 2017, at 12:00PM I made the announcement that accompanied by prayer, I had been guided into the decision that I was going on the world race, a 9 month mission trip. But I also made the announcement that the only way I could do this was to meet my deadline of $5000 in 7 days. My heart seemingly dropped as I reread the post saying that I had made this decision but had to raise this much so fast. I thought to myself that I was crazy. Seven days is impossible. God didn’t guide me into this, I forced it. I doubted and worried and doubted and worried again. It seems as if I had conquered the possible, but only the impossible remains. I somehow have to manage raising five thousand dollars in a matter of seven days. After what seemed like a short amount of time, the first day is over. The day passes and I rest at seven-hundred seventy dollars. I begin to worry even more. Being the math person that I am, I realize that I have to raise this much per day at this rate to meet my deadline. That night, I found myself on my knees for the first time ever in my life begging and crying out God to do something that seems so big to me, yet so small to Him. I then finish praying and something strange to me happens. A peace comes over me and I begin to be at rest and feel as if this weight had been lifted. I talk to my dad as he tries to talk me into having a backup plan regarding school as my lease is relinquished and my scholarship is deferred since the $5000 seems so impossible. But with this peace I had, I was able to assure him that it would not be necessary. I blink and some days pass. The final day arrives and it’s time to leave for training camp. I can only hope my balance rests above the five thousand. I check my phone during the morning of the day it’s time to go to find that after seven days and 53 donations, my funding rests at $5150 and on the other hand, I received a text from my ride that says He’s ready to come pick me up. I take a second to myself to reflect. “Why did I ever worry?” and as I think this to myself, I can’t help but imagine that God smiles with me in agreement as He sees the trust and dependence on Him that this has brought me to. The process was so hard and daunting, but it’s these moments God uses best to bring me close to Him. If I was to say that this was anything short of a miracle, I’d be taking away from doing justice to something that only God could do. Some say miracles pass but I know one thing to be true as God shows me just the slightest glimpse of who He is.
You ARE the God of Miracles.
