n case you have read Life Signatures for a while, you will have realized that I have made what I consider to be very controversial statements as far as God and miracles are concerned.
I can go on and on and on but I think by now you get the message. So why am I talking about this today? Well, there will always be a place for miracles in the pursuit of purpose. I heard the visionary TD Jakes say one day that in Africa, people experience miracles daily. When we zero down onto the purpose that God created you to do, there will always be a place for you to need a miracle or two.
Now, please note that I am not writing a contradictory message here. The message remains the same: Miracle works are not the predominant method that God uses to help us advance. He never instituted that to be the system for growth, development and progression. Miracles are needed in situations that are dire that need the intervention of the Divine.
The common denominator in all miracles is the desperation that is brought about by a dire circumstance. IN other words, the miracle once it takes place, it is supposed to restore you to a form or a level in which the naturally ordained process of growth, development and progression takes place. God give you a miracle to deliver you and put you back in a position to operate naturally.
The point is that God did not ordain miracles to be the predominant way in which we grow and advance in life. A quick study will put this into perspective.
Clearly, seeking of miracles as the predominant way of developing and growing from one level to another is not the way God structured life to be.
However, there comes a time in your pursuit of life that you will definitely need a miracle for the following reasons:
Following the process leads to miracles, not the other way round. Miracles in themselves require an input from us. I will leave you with this story that I have shared several times. This time round, I found it from Marcia Weirder’s book “Dream” as she explains it herself.
“I was speaking at a church near Portland, Oregon, when I met Wilson. A tall, bright-eyed eighteen-year-old, he confided in me that he was a Masai warrior from Kenya, Africa, and this was his first time away from his tribe. I asked what he was doing in Oregon and he told me this tale:
“When I was young, I became ill and my mother took me to a medical clinic. From that day forward, my dream was to become a doctor. But it was impossible since there was no training available and no one ever left the tribe. It just wasn’t done. “As I grew up, I shared my dream with anyone who would listen. Everyone, including my own family, told me it was a fantasy and to forget about it. But I never did. Recently, a writer came from your country to visit my tribe. He interviewed me and published my story. Perhaps you know the paper, The Washington Post?”
I smiled and nodded. He continued, “A couple from Portland read my story and within a matter of weeks I was invited to apply for undergraduate work at the University of Portland. A few months later, I was accepted.” I took a deep breath and said, “That’s extraordinary. You must have been so happy.” His response startled me.
“Actually, it was one of the most painful days of my life. My family didn’t have the money or any other resources to send me off to America on what they considered to be a whim. I knew there was only one thing to do. I prayed for a miracle. And Marcia,” he paused, “that’s what I got. Four families each came forward to generously extend their hearts and hands. Each agreed to house me, to feed me, to buy my books, and to be my family while I was so far from home.”
I swallowed hard as my eyes welled up. But what he said next rocked my world. “After hearing you speak so passionately about dreams, I now know what I must do. I must become a doctor, of course; that is my dream. But then I must return to my village as an example that no dream is impossible and that extraordinary things can happen when we gather together as a tribe.””