When Pigs Fly預覽

Miracles of Protection

I, this Bible Plan’s writer, believe I’ve experienced a miracle of protection. That wasn’t easy to write, and I’ll explain why.

On a New Year’s Eve afternoon, my pregnant wife, our three little kids, our young beagle, a van full of Christmas presents, and I were a few hours into a long drive home after visiting family. 

As I rounded a bend at highway speeds, my view gave way to a beautiful winter horizon. A second later, my tires roared past the rumble strip and my wife shouted my name. I pulled the wheel and prayed, reaching for every bit of dunamis power I’ve ever known.

Metal crushing, glass shattering, tires pointing at sky, airbags somehow failing, dog flying, and kids crying threw us into utter disbelief. Then, hanging from her seatbelt, my wife cried out, “Jesus! Jesus help us.” She paused, “Kids, just say Jesus!” Kids. Are they hurt? Then, a knock on our window.

Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned to hours as one good Samaritan after the next stopped to pull toys from the frigid creek, search for our dog, and put warm blankets around my cold, pregnant wife and kids. Our kids. What about the baby?

A bruise. Our family, unborn included, got one bruise, and some nasty whiplash. The valley of the shadow of death, and we didn’t break any bones or need any stitches? Some stranger even found our dog, safe, two days later. 

Here’s why it’s hard to admit I experienced a miracle of protection: because I often doubt it. Because the ambulance left us for a horrible crash in the same mile marker the other direction. Because I’ve lost close friends and family who didn’t get the miracle. 

That last sentence explains why most people doubt miracles of protection. Yet, we have biblical reasons to believe. Jesus calms storms. God closes the mouths of lions. We read God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Through the valley of the shadow of death, He’s with us.

With us. Ever-present. This is a miracle, isn’t it? When the wreck takes a life—and when it doesn’t. When it feels like Jesus is napping on our boat in a deadly storm and when we vividly experience Him commanding danger to calm. He’s in our boat. And when everyone in my van dies one day, we’ll be with Him somewhere better. Well, who knows about the dog.

I don’t know exactly why miracles of protection happen, but I believe they do. I believe He’s with us, always close enough to hear, even if you can just say Jesus!

Pray: Jesus.