“God is a safe place to hide, ready to help when we need him.” Psalm 46.1
Being a part of a miracle in action (MIA) is an unnerving experience. Not everyone present viewed the scene as I did; I found myself caught in a mixture of excitement and fright.
We had a plan for the day, giving ourselves plenty of time to hang the art for the show. The wrinkle in the time line came totally outside of our control. I cannot recall sending a prayer for help, or forming a request for God. I do remember a strong sense that God was in control.
The first MIA came in our quest for parking. Circling the blocks in lower Manhattan on a weekday is usually a fruitless effort. Within minutes, we found a safe parking spot that did not even have a meter!
The next MIA came during our conversation about the art and their origin. A potential time of skepticism never arrived, instead the time revolved around God and our thirst to know and experience him.
The third MIA struck me at my core. Hanging art on walls with no straight edge or square corners is challenging. Getting the task completed against a deadline is a recipe for stress, anger, and tension. The first time our picture was level I did not even notice our speed. The second time we measured, marked, nailed, and realized the level picture the surprise of my faced was clear. The third time we hit the mark everyone in the gallery knew something was going on. The fourth, fifth, sixth, and twenty-second time I knew the Spirit was present! Every mark, every position!
The fourth MIA came as I reveled in the third. Driving from lower Manhattan to upper New Jersey takes, especially during rush hour, at least 75 minutes. Not when God is in charge! Sixty minutes door to door. Walking in the home all I could do was thank God for grace and love.
I needed God. God acted in ways I didn’t deserve. Just like our relationship.
MIAs…wow.
