“If only I could witness a miracle – then, just then, I would truly believe in the power of Jesus.”
Here are my questions back: Would you even recognize a miracle if it really did happen? Would you actually give Jesus the credit for a healing? Or would you simply overlook or forget about it?
Honestly, this is a story that I almost completely slipped my mind… the story of an overlooked miracle:
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It was already dark outside and everyone was getting ready for a campfire. Kimberly came around and asked several of us to come with her to pray for Gift (one of our Malawian translators) – he had malaria.
I have to be honest – I didn’t really have the desire to go.
I had heard of Gift but he was never one of my interpreters.
I was tired that night. Really tired.
I wasn’t even going to attend the bonfire, which is unusual for me.
I went, feet dragging… we walked over to his home and knocked on the door. As we stepped inside, I felt like I was walking into a sauna. It was a large, empty room. Dirt floors. One mattress was on the ground and a mosquito net was hanging in the back of the room. A single candle illuminated Gift’s sweat-drenched body and a ghastly look on his face.
Another moment of honesty: if this was not someone’s house that we already knew,
I would have been far beyond nervous by then.
…it was somewhat of a scary picture.
The group of us came around Gift. Even though he was sweating, he had the chills. His whole body was writhing in pain. We placed our hands on him – I immediately retracted. This was the hottest human being I have ever laid hands on. The reality of the situation hit me with the burning flesh beneath my fingertips. Not like I have much experience, but I’ve never seen the effects of malaria be so severe.
We each began to pray, one at a time. Though I was with a group of slightly intimidating people (some of my teammates I most admire in their spiritual walk), I found myself jumping into prayer head-on. The words simply flowed out. I was not pleading with God to grant healing. No. I found myself praying thankfulness over the healing that the Lord was already going to bring that night. We prayed with such certainty, such authority, and such peace. And then we left.
The next day, I had completely forgotten about what happened the night before. It was the day of the soccer tournament, so my mind was sidetracked. When we got to the game, guess who was assigned to be my translator for the afternoon – Gift. I hardly recognized him. It was as if nothing had ever happened to him in the first place, when the night before he visually appeared to be one of the sickest people I have ever been around.
When I asked him if he felt better, his response was, “Yes, of course I feel better.” His responses to all of my inquiries (and I asked him several questions at various times) were so matter of fact:
Yes, God healed me of malaria. We prayed for it, so of course God healed me.
It almost came across as “no big deal – I had malaria yesterday and I don’t anymore.”
The truth of the matter is that Gift did not take this miracle for granted. He daily put so much of his faith in the Lord and in God’s power that this “huge healing” was simply God providing for him. Gift’s response was so basic and nonchalant because, all the while, he knew that God was in control. Gift expected Jesus to intervene and wipe away the sickness. He trusted all along that the malaria was temporary and that everything was in the Lord’s hands.
I admired this so much. It made me think how we often come to God with our prayers, our requests, not really believing God will actually heal, actually provide. But the thing is…God does. So it’s time to start believing.
