Today I'm participating with Hearts at Home in sharing about the miracles in our lives. "Hearts at Home seeks to encourage, equip, and educate every mom in every season of motherhood using Christian values to strengthen families." I know I need that encouragement, and many of my readers do, too. I hope the "miracle" I share today will encourage anyone, mom or not.
We had just been in the Asia for about 6 weeks, trying to find housing, learn how to shop, find our way, and get acclimated to our new home. To celebrate Christmas, we took our 6 yr old Jo and 4 yr old Jake to a mountain city, to a small missionary compound with cottages, cooler air, and a grassy field. It was the first time the kids enjoyed running and playing, since our arrival. As parents, it gave us the chance to relax and get much needed rest.
|The brown slats were added after the accident.|
When JoHanna appeared at the door, breathless, we knew a crisis was in motion. Arriving at the scene, lying on the ground beside our boy, we knew our lives could be about to change. We could become one of those heartbreaking missionary stories that we hear and grieve. As Jeff and the men worked feverishly to dislodge the swing from Jacob's skull, we could hear his cries. A woman whom I didn't know from another mission came and knelt beside me on the ground, calling out loud a commanding prayer of intercession for Jacob's life. When Jacob fell silent, Jeff shouted that the heavy floor of the swing had to move right then. It was not humanly possible.
With one divine movement, they heaved with all their might, and the Lord lifted the floor of the swing. A nearby doctor pulled Jacob's body from the concrete, and we began our race to the car, through the traffic, to a hospital, and through the long hours ahead. Prayers were sent from dear friends in the country and in the US, and our Jacob's life was spared. The attending doctor said that if his head had not miraculously turned, he would not have survived. It was as if a hand had turned his face in the split second before the swing sped back, pinning him down.
While lying beside our boy on a thin pad over metal coils in the dark, I could hear chanting mixed with the sounds of barking dogs, traffic, and wanderers through the open window. I never felt so far from everything familiar, so inadequate as a mother. But God made His presence as bright as the night was dark and as peace giving as the place was fearful.
Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.Psalm 139:7-10
Easter is a reminder that Jesus holds the keys to death, and He has the right and power to hold back the tide of its grip when He chooses. Ultimately, His life insures that death can not overcome us. We were released from the hospital on Christmas Eve, to take our small boy with the heavily bandaged head "home" to a rented cottage in a foreign city. Without any doubt, we knew our lives had, indeed, changed that day. We had been part of a miracle, and our hearts were full of praise.