Two Miracles

Two great miracles are going on in my life right now.

At least, they seem like great miracles to me.

On Wednesday, January 21, my fourth grandchild was born. Malachi Jacob Wentz was born to my son Jeremiah and his lovely wife Becky in Belington, West Virginia. (It was also my father’s 80th birthday. Happy Birthday, Dad!)

Sunday after church Paula and I drove to Belington to spend four wonderful days with Malachi and his big brother, Isaiah, who turned two on January 19.

I don’t need to tell you how special a newborn is. And I don’t need to tell you how much fun a two-year-old can be. We had a great time holding the baby, playing with blocks (custom-made by his grandpa – me), reading books, throwing snowballs, and generally enjoying being grandparents.

In one respect it’s all quite normal and natural. But I don’t care. You can’t convince me it’s not a miracle.

I’m about to embark on the second miracle. I have been asked to travel to Turkey to lead training. conferences in two cities for Turkish pastors. (You can read more about it by going to trinityannapolis.org and clicking on “February 2009 Newsletter.”)

For some people, flying across the ocean to be in on the ground floor of what God is doing in a country that is 99.8% Muslim may seem perfectly natural. Again, to me, it’s a miracle.

Not so much that it’s happening, maybe, but that it’s happening to me. How come I’m one of the lucky ones, out of all the thousands of pastors in America and around the world? Why am I so blessed to be a part of this amazing thing?

The only explanation I have, if you consider it an explanation, is that it’s just another example of God’s amazing grace.

Some people think you can only call something a miracle if you can’t find any other explanation for it. I disagree. I can explain how babies are born, but I still think they are miracles. I can explain how a seed grows into a flower, but I still think that’s a miracle. And I can see a logical progression of events working in my life to bring me to this place, but I choose to see God’s miraculous hand in it anyway.

I think miracles are a matter of perspective. Not that the real, supernatural, non-scientifically-explainable kind of miracles don’t happen. They do, and I’ve experienced them more than once. But I think, if you can see God in something, you can legitimately call it a miracle, at least in the wide sense.

And that’s how I like to see things. It lets me experience a whole lot more miracles. And that just makes the world seem brighter, somehow.