These Are Days of Miracle and Wonder

The origin story

Dec 11, 2020

Hello! Welcome.
I’m Faith, and it seems clear and most appropriate to me that I should officially kick off my presence in this space with a bang, since that best reflects how my presence on this earth became known to my parents, lo these thirty-three years ago – to the day, as legend would have it.

So, once upon a time, there was a woman.

She was strong-willed and courageous... or at least part of her was, and that part had quite a time protecting and motivating another part of her that had been broken and badly hurt. Relationships can do that to us sometimes.

One relationship in particular left the woman spiraling. Already having taken the opportunity, after a severe bout with endometriosis, to medically ensure that she would never bring new life into this world, she longed to exit it herself. To exist was to hurt.

The woman was existing in her parents’ home at this time.“Living” is too strong a word for it, considering the fact that she was spending her days contemplating this exit. One evening, the woman’s mother, seeing the state she was in, entreated her, saying “Why don’t you come to church with us tonight? It’s not like you have anything better to do.” By some stroke of good fortune, or supernatural prompting, the woman ceased her seemingly endless rocking back and forth on the couch, stood up, and joined them. After all, her mother was completely right.

That night she found something she hadn't experienced in a long time, if ever: overwhelming beloved-ness; wanted-ness. She had an idea about whom she was going to meet at that church service, because who is there but the Lord, after all? But she had no clue how immensely ready and delighted He was to meet her there. He made her completely welcome, and she knew she needed to go back; so she went. Every time those church doors were open, she was there, desperate for as much of this healing love as she could possibly get. Time passed; she kept showing up, and He never let her down.

The woman made herself at home in that congregation. The Lord made her free from that particularly toxic relationship, and then He went to work on her relationship with herself, teaching her to see herself the way He saw her – beloved, wanted. She began to learn things about this Creator who loved her so immensely. His words in scripture were not just abstract ideas; His promises not just conversational niceties of little consequence. He was real; He meant what He said, and He was serious about keeping the promises He made.

She began to pray a certain prayer: "Lord, I want your will more than my own."

Through her business as a freelance graphic designer, she was connected with a man who became interested in a relationship with her that was much more than just business. The woman found she was open to this development, but if the man wanted to see her on that particular night, he would have to come to her church, where she would be serving as usher for a special meeting.

He agreed. He attended. He was rather flummoxed by this undeniably charismatic experience of church, being a firm skeptic, himself, but he stayed. Afterward, he told the woman that, though he was looking for God, he wasn’t going to find Him at her church. A few months later, however, he was back to attend a class that the church was offering. It seems the quest, both for God, and for the company of this woman, were too strong a draw for him. Like the woman, the man kept showing up, and the Lord didn’t let him down.

As the relationship moved forward briskly, the man and the woman talked about their pasts. She informed him of her tubal ligation, and while the man would have liked to have children, he saw a future with this woman even without them. The woman herself wasn't completely sure this man was Mr. Right, and made him privy to her doubts. He was unfazed, however, and let her know that he’d just stick around till Mr. Right showed up. This arrangement was agreeable to them both.

A year later, in the middle of October, the couple got married (it seems the woman had come around to the idea of the man being Mr. Right, after all). The wedding was a joyous occasion – an obvious marker of the goodness of God in the land of the living – and was celebrated with much goodwill by their family and congregation, along with the hope and relief of the married couple. The happy event was followed by some days of trepidation for at least the bride, which, of course, can happen anytime one starts a new life with a new person, and begins to wonder just how this is going to play out. The learning curve can be a steep one.

Scarcely had two months of married life passed when the real shocker came: the woman was pregnant.

Devastation. Elation.

How dare He.

How dare the man? No, all of the woman’s outrage was directed solely at the Lord. What was He playing at? How dare He take the woman’s earnest prayer of submission and just go off and flout this thing that was so important to her? She had trusted Him! She felt betrayed and angry. She was thrown backward, and depression caught her. She went about her life, her marriage, her work, in an almost catatonic state. Bereft, in the midst of so many gifts.

The woman did not want a child. Day after day, for at least six months, she woke up and did not want this child.

Meanwhile, the man was experiencing something quite different. This God that his new wife believed in had come for him, for his walls, for his skepticism, for his mockery, but not with judgment – oh no! He came "like a big fist breaking down my door – I never felt such a love before."*

Proof: undeniable; inescapable. This God and His immense love were not to be trifled with. The man was awed, and delighted; though he worked to temper his excitement in support of his wife’s mental state.

The months went by, and the emotional disparity between the man and the woman wasn’t as odd to them as one might have guessed. Their relationship and life together was so new, they didn’t have much of an idea of what “normal” should look like. Wasn’t this normal?

But the Lord knew better. He always does.

Six or seven months into the pregnancy, the woman was again ushering at a special church event–this time a women’s meeting. As she stood and supported others who were being prayed for, she began to feel a little ill, so she sat down. The speaker for this event came to her and pronounced, “If it weren’t for your great love for the Lord, you would not have been able to deal with this as well as you have been.”

Oh, Lord. He saw her.

He knew all of the difficulty — the shock, the fear — and He knew that she loved Him. He felt her great love, the way she had felt His. She was released. Joy began to creep in; wonder, excitement, enthusiasm. The woman wanted this child. She was sure this baby was a girl, was certain of her name.

The due date came, and then went, as due dates are wont to do. This was miserable for the woman, it being the middle of August. The day was Wednesday, and the couple made their way to church for the evening service. Their pastor had the man and the congregation pray together that labor would begin that night – well after the service was over, of course. The two returned home in much anticipation.

Then, oh joy! Within hours there was a sharp drop in barometric pressure, and labor began! The couple high-tailed it to the hospital, where a situation became clear: all the other full-term mothers had also been summoned to the hospital by this atmospheric occurrence, and were just as much in labor as she was. Frustration of frustrations! Tensions were high as all the expectant families present played an arduous game of musical labor-and-delivery rooms.

Finally, a room opened up, and the little family settled in.

Finally, momentum. Transition. The final push.

The first cry.

Tears of relief, of wonder, of euphoria. She was here – beloved, wanted – this baby who should never have been. The couple were overwhelmed with joy. As new father gently held new daughter, their pastor arrived for a visit. The man turned the baby to face him and declared, “Now Faith is.”

That baby was me.

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.

Hebrews 11:1

*from Bruce Cockburn’s After The Rain