Yesterday during our Christmas Worship Service, I gave this testimony.
Six years ago our family sat where you are while the choir sang Christmas carols. As we listened to songs about the birth of baby Jesus, my son Andrew – my baby – whispered in my ear, “It’s not the same without you up there, Mama.”
It was the first Christmas I sat in the congregation instead of in the choir. It was the last Christmas we would spend with our 12 year old son, Andrew – the last Sunday we would worship together as a family of five.
Andrew was diagnosed with brain cancer less than 4 months before that Sunday – the 13th of December. Two days later, on the 15th, we kissed him for the last time on this side of eternity.
We prayed for a miracle. We did not get the one we prayed for.
But we did get a miracle of another kind.
Because of the miracle of a King becoming a baby, we know our son is with the King of Kings even now.
The same day we said goodbye, he said hello to the One in whom He had placed his faith. He entered into the presence of Jesus and was received unto the Father on the day we released him.
I remember six years ago being so hopeful that in the Season Of Miracles, Andrew would get his miracle of healing and life.
He did. When he exhaled his last breath here, he inhaled his first breath there. His paralyzed side was completely made whole. His smile was no longer crooked but bigger than ever.
There is a man named Bertrand Russell who claims that no one could sit at the bedside of a dying child and still believe in God. Mr. Russell is wrong.
I say, “How can you not believe when you sit in the presence of God as your child breathes his last breath here and his first breath there?
You may be praying for your own kind of miracle during the Christmas Season, when even the unbeliever believes anything is possible.
Whether you get your miracle or not, listen to me – God is still good. God is still faithful. God is still worthy of your praise and your worship.
A few months after Andrew went to Heaven, I cried out to the Lord in my pain and my grief. I told Him how we believed and prayed for a miracle. And how I didn’t understand what had happened.
Then He spoke these words to my hurting heart, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe.”
I still believe. I still believe He heals. I still believe He saves. I still believe He is the Lamb of God. I still believe in miracles.