There are those who don’t believe miracles happen any more.   I’m not one of them.

Maybe that’s because I see them.  I saw a miracle happen just this morning.  Not a parting of the Red Sea, but watching a man’s eyes go from hopeless despair to bright and shining.  A man who had an encounter with the Living God.

John is a Kenyan who helps us with outdoor projects.  Over the past few months, John’s been getting weaker and weaker, thinner and thinner.  He had been tested for malaria which was negative, but his cough was getting worse and his chest was hurting.  We sat down with him and urged him to go for further testing, that something was terribly wrong with his health.

We were right.  John has TB.  He was set up with the local clinic to start receiving daily shots for 6 weeks, then pills for 6 months.  Not a fun road to travel, but at least a road that should lead to restored health.  John continued to work the best he could in his weakened condition.  His medical treatment is covered by a help agency, but he still needs to put food on the table for himself and his family.

John came to work this morning, and as I served him his eggs and toast for breakfast, he shared that the clinic hasn’t been able to get the medicine that he needs.  The one that they think will best fight the TB needs to come from Nairobi and it didn’t come this week.  More than his words, I heard the dejection in his voice.  There’s such an overbearing presence of darkness that lies over Lokichoggio that perpetuates the lie that most have come to believe, “We are the forgotten people.”

I felt John’s aloneness.  His hopelessness.  His desperation to travel to Lodwar … ANYWHERE where they can treat his condition.  Never mind the logistic fact that he would have no roof over his head, no food, and no one to care for him.

So we stopped to pray to God.  To God who knows exactly what is going on in John’s body and exactly how to fix it.  Whether supernaturally, or through medicines, it is God who heals.  We asked Him to heal John completely, restore his energy, restore his appetite, and relieve his pain.  We asked for the medicines to arrive on Monday … no, today.  Even on Saturday, please send them today.  We claimed the truth that nothing is impossible for God.

Miracle time.  3 hours later as John was finishing his work, he said that the lab tech tracked him down to find him and tell him the medicines arrived this morning.  They will continue treatment Monday morning.

Is the miracle that the medicine arrived?  Maybe in part, but I think the greater miracle is the work that happened in John’s heart today.  We look for miracles in the physical realm and glance over the amazing miracles of restored hope in our hearts.

The love of a lab tech who took it upon himself to find John and let him know the medicines are here because the number they had for John wasn’t working (his phone dropped in an outhouse, but that’s another story).

The perfect timing of the medicine arriving a few hours after we prayed restored John’s faith in prayer.  With glistening eyes, John said, “Mama Ian, your prayers, they change things.  God changes things.”

I replied, “God loves you, John.”

John smiled and repeated, “God loves me.  I will have a few years left.”  He continued to tell me about his children that are in school (I think he was telling me his reason for living, but not in flowery words).

I think the biggest miracle that happened this morning was that John saw and felt first-hand the mighty hand of God.  He saw that just trusting in Him changed things.  He didn’t need to travel to another city for his treatment to be done right and be healed.  He’s not forgotten.  Not only will God bring the medicine to Loki, He’ll send a messenger to find him.  John has hope for more tomorrows with his children.

John thinks it was my prayer.  I don’t.  I think the prayer was a catalyst to stoke his faith, the faith of a mustard seed that will move mountains.

I lift up my eyes to the mountains –

 where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord,

The Maker of heaven and earth.

Ps 121