What is a genuine miracle for the purpose of this post? The short answer is that it is one that I find convincing because (1) it is beneficial and (2) cannot be more easily explained as a natural occurrence.
The longer answer (but not dreadfully long) goes like this. On one hand, every thing is a miracle. But as soon as we admit that, the term loses its usefulness. Perhaps it’s better to say everything is a gift and some gifts are miraculous.
A physician’s report that says an individual recovered in spite of medical predictions would be bonafide in my mind, whether or not we knew that someone had prayed for that healing. Missing a flight or a ride that happened to culminate in an accident might be a miracle. Finding oneself in an airport and receiving a call from one’s grandmother warning one not to board the flight that did culminate in an accident would be an even more convincing example of divine intervention.
You get the idea: the less probable and the more helpful an otherwise difficult-to-explain event is, the more likely it is to be a miracle.
As a reminder, we believe in Jesus because his Father has revealed him to us (Matthew 16:16-18). That revelation—that conviction that Jesus is the Christ—is less tangible but more reliable than a reported miracle.
Even so, miracles that reveal the love and kindness of God deserve our attention. Frequently in the New Testament, they serve two purposes at the same time, to help the individual and to reveal the goodness and power of God (John 9:1-6).
In my experience, Christians talk about miracles and even imagine miracles far more often than they experience them. What counts as miracles here are experiences that cannot be more easily accounted for as coincidences or instances of random luck. Bonafide miracles in this context result from the Spirit of God somehow moving in this physical world to make a much-needed change.
So, if you will, in the comments below, please share any bonafide miracles you’ve witnessed. Please be as honest as you can. When I was in high school I told a friend my van had miraculously started running well. She told her dad. He was a skeptic. I stood my ground. The truth is, I didn’t mention that I had replaced a spark plug. This was something I didn’t even think about in my zeal. If I could go back in time, I’d simply thank God for the ability to put a new plug in my car and leave the miraculous out of the picture.
If I see a need to edit your comment, I’ll send you an email letting you know the reasons (for clarity and integrity). Let’s start with one of the few documented miracles in my life. There are many events that I think are divinely guided but they do not make compelling stories to outsiders.
In 1971-72 my orthodontist in Albuquerque, Dr. King, said I’d have to return in a few years to get some wisdom teeth removed. My jaws didn’t have room, and one tooth in particular was already pointing in a bad direction.
In 1973-74, I was at Oral Roberts University, walking across campus. I remember uttering a fairly mundane prayer. It was brief and sincere: “God, please fix my wisdom teeth. I don’t want to spend the money or experience the pain of getting them fixed.” After that, I forgot about the matter for a few years.
In 1976 or so, I felt a wisdom tooth breaking through my gums. Remembering what Dr. King had said, I booked a flight from Louisiana to New Mexico and visited him.
He looked in my mouth and pretty quickly let out a “Hmmm….” He then left the room and brought his partner back with him, along with the x-rays from years before. He said, “I’ve never seen this in all my years of practice: the jaw grew longer and the tooth straightened itself out.”
Now, I was excited and remembered the simple prayers. I said, “Jesus did it. I prayed and he fixed them.”
“I don’t know how it happened,” said Dr. King, “but I’ve never seen anything like it.”
As recorded in 2010:
As I write, I have a little fawn pug lying next to me … Tut the miracle boy … the survivor.
You remember that King Tut disappeared on Nov. 11, 2009, when a relative in OK witnessed him run out of the house but neglected to notify anyone that he was gone. Vanished. Adding to the drama was news that his tags had been removed from his collar. He was missing with no identification.
Heartache ensued as all efforts seemed to end in disappointment. I got a quick education in finding a lost pet and met many good hearted people who responded to ads, posters, automated phone calls, and postcards. I met scam artists and a few people who wanted me to buy their pug. Most of all I realized there are hundreds of pets out there, missing, with owners who are seeking their return.
My search was frustrated by living miles from the point of Tut’s disappearance. One day, after trying everything I felt helpless and prayed, “God what else can I do?” I felt impressed to fast that day.
Only God knew where this little guy was and how to get him back into my arms.
I would spend time every day scanning websites for lost pugs. I did this for eight weeks and it got so I was routinely scanning through face after face that didn’t look anything like Tut. Until last Monday.
A listing: It looked a lot like Tut. But the ad said the pug, named Carlos, was a year old. Tut is two years old. But I called. Every stone must be turned. I spoke with Diane.
Turns out Diane rescued this pug from her own neighbor who kept him in a box all day. She had tried to talk to the people about how pugs can’t endure cold temperatures but they couldn’t speak English and she couldn’t speak Spanish. She would drive by regularly to observe the little pug getting thinner and thinner.
So one day, when she saw the pug out of the box, and out of the yard, wandering the streets, she called him over and he hopped in her car. She couldn’t make herself take him back to the neglectful owners.
So she rescued him. Took him to the vet. And, because she had five dogs already, she began to try to place him in a good home. That’s when she placed the ad on Petfinders.com.
We talked and I sent her pictures of Tut, and noted the way his hair doesn’t lie perfectly on a small spot on his left shoulder. She called back and said, “Pack your bags, this is your pug!” Through tears, I asked her how she knew … she said the collar in the photo was exact, the cowlick on the shoulder, his profile … it all fit. She said the vet told her the pug was 2 years old but she didn’t believe him because Tut (a.k.a. Carlos) acted like a 6 month old … that fits!
My husband, Don, and I drove the 700 miles to meet Diane and joyously reunite with King Tut. Jesus once again exceeds all limits of mercy and compassion to return this dog to us … to me, now, as he recovers. God has spared me much heartache.
Tut recovered quickly from his ordeal. He had a flesh burn on his arm from the light bulb in the box the people kept him in during the cold winter nights. It took him some time before he would look me in the eyes, and he has an irrational response to big dogs which is new.
Now in 2024:
King Tut turns 17 this month. I have enjoyed 15 years with him since his miraculous return. He overcame his response to big dogs by spending hours barking at our neighbor’s cows and one would never know he was ever anything but a pampered pup.
God is good … more purely compassionate than I believe most of the time … until something like this happens and I am overwhelmed once again at the undeserved blessings He brings.
Thanks to each of you for sharing in this story with me.
The most significant miracle in my life is that I am a believer – not only in miracles, but in the God of miracles: Father, Son (Jesus) and Holy Spirit. At age 15 I was “agnostic,” a term I learned in order to ward off evangelism efforts of my best friend and my brother. After one particularly heated discussion about sin, I was unsettled and made a cry toward the ceiling in my room: “God, if you are real, please show me.” Nothing happened at that time, but a few weeks later I became aware of Jesus’ presence (I was riding a school bus at the time). That’s it – a miracle. My interests, behavior and life path changed that day. Jesus has been present, and real to me, ever since.