We Don't Need New Miracles


A couple of days ago, I was on the phone with my best friend Paige during my regular commute. I was telling her about something really good in my life, something that, in the beginning, I never thought would be a bright situation. "I feel like that always happens to you," she said, "these things you are convinced will be so bad always turn out to be the best things." I agreed, paused, and spit out "except for Colorado" in a quick reply. As soon as the words left my mouth, they felt wrong. You see, if you've read my blog or talked to me throughout the past two years, you know that I've wrestled time and time again with the transition to life in Colorado. Recently, I was talking to another friend who just moved from the south to the west, and I told her that the one word to describe my time here would be uncomfortable.

I've been uncomfortable in my own skin, uncomfortable in my career path, and consistently doubted God's plan for all the questions in my head.

And yet, when I count my blessings in Colorado, they are innumerable. Things I've hoped for and prayed for have come to fruition, others are in progress, and my outlook has continued to improve and mature. Uncomfortable isn't always a bad thing because it has forced me out of my comfort zone and into a season of growth. So, why were those words my gut reaction?

In all honesty, I act this way because I compare everything to Nashville. In Nashville, I was uncomfortable for maybe 3 weeks. The city and the people quickly felt like home, and I had more "ah-ha" moments about my life in 4 short years than any other season. I was keenly aware of the fact that God was guiding my steps.

This morning, I was reading a devotion about doubting Thomas. Absentmindedly, I recorded a verse (John 20:24-31) in my journal and wrote, "doubting Thomas needed a sign, even though he'd already witnessed so many miracles". That's me, I quickly thought. God has shown me countless miracles in my life: in my relationships, in transitions, in my personal dreams. I often complain inside because I miss the season of instant gratification, where I had constant reminders of community and purpose. I grumble because my reminders aren't as obvious here; they aren't as frequent. However, when I take the time to notice them and be thankful, they are just as real.

Perhaps the miracles in our lives aren't meant to make us aware of our present circumstances, but rather, they are given to strengthen us for seasons in the future when the reminders aren't as obvious. We need those moments to show us that God is in control, we are on the right track, and people really can change. In times when we don't see the same progress, we can hold on to past reminders that God is still God, even in the rough places.

The reality (or absence) of new miracles does not make the old ones any less real.