JL: For twenty years, I lived a life of standard faith, leading worship, and believing I knew exactly how God worked. But in 2024, my wife and I were about to enter a classroom we never signed up for.
We were expecting twin girls, and like any parents of faith, we spent months praying for a miracle. We asked for the homecoming, the healthy lungs, and the long life. But our miracle didn’t show up in the way we expected. Instead of a celebration, we were met with the devastating feeling of a silent delivery room.
Instead of leaving the hospital with car seats, we left with embarrassment and broken hearts. In the wake of losing our daughters, I fell into a cavern of grief, confusion, and a depression so heavy it felt like it had its own gravity. We had waited for a miracle that never came, and for a moment, it felt like our story had ended in the wreckage.
Yet it was in the center of that wreckage that a different kind of miracle began to stir. It wasn’t the miracle of a fix, but the miracle of a faith that refused to fail even when it was shattered. I realized that God wasn’t standing on the shore waiting for me to get through the storm; He was standing in the middle of the waves with me. He didn’t offer an explanation; He offered His presence.
For every person sitting in their own unimaginable storm, we are proof that even when the miracle you wanted doesn’t happen, the God of the miracle never leaves.
