God’s Little Miracles are Sometimes the Best Miracles

by Matt

Sometimes I think that in LDS vernacular or tradition (or maybe anyone’s tradition) that Miracles are held in our minds to be difficult to attain, very rare and/or large-scale things that are viewable on large, grandiose scales.  I have come to disagree with that notion and I have a few thoughts about it I’ve wanted to share for a while.  (One of the stories involves some of our friends and I’ve held off posting because parts of the story could be embarrassing, but it’s been long enough now that I’m posting it anyway.  And I won’t use any names to make sure the innocent are protected.  )

One old experience, first.  I remember in 1999 I was a zone leader for the Bonnie Doon district in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.  It was a really large district (it mirrored the stake) and it stretched north into what felt like the “far reaches” of Northern Alberta – an oil town named Ft. McMurray, AB was the northernmost town in our district that had missionaries in it.  After being in the zone for two months, it was my turn to travel around the zone for a week and spend time with each of the companionships.  We drove for a long time and after several days I wanted to stop and stretch my legs in the upcoming town, Lac La Biche.  There was a nice lake near the town and we walked along the walkway enjoying the fresh Spring greenery.  I was sad that there was no branch in Lac La Biche, but we stopped anyway.  About five minutes out of the car a woman approached us and asked if we were missionaries for the church.  “Yes,” came the reply.   She replied  that someone in her family wanted to be baptized but they didn’t know how to contact the missionaries.  Needless to say, we were able to help her out and several weeks later, the person was baptized.  I am convinced that there were many ways that she could have been led to contact the missionaries and she would have certainly found a way without us being there, but to me, it was a miracle.  I think the reason the Lord let it happen in this way was to show His missionaries that He is aware of His Children and that He will guild them to the truth. 

Recently in our home, you might have noticed, we started raising backyard chickens.  If you’re not sure, there are multiple posts about it here, here, here, and…. here, for just a few examples.  Anyway, when they were young and very much a novelty, some friends were over and we were playing with the baby chicks in the garage.  We had had the chicks for several weeks and connections were being formed, field trips to the next door dirt pile for dust baths and roosting lessons were part of the regular activity.  Anyway, through an accident, one of the children hurt one of the baby chicks, Wynona.  Here she is (I think):

She was hurt pretty bad and I was convinced she was going to die.  I was okay with that, chicks are really cheap and getting a new Wyandotte chick would be a pretty easy feat (I think our guest was hatching plans already to buy us another one, actually, if you would pardon the pun).  Anyway, Rebecca and Brianna were very torn up and sat in the garage trying to deal with the sadness of the seemingly inevitable death of poor, little Wynona.  

It was such a terrible event for so many reasons!  Rebecca and Brianna were obviously sad; Poor Wynona was going to die; our poor guests were trying to deal with the fact that their child had caused this sadness.  Even with all this difficulty, I’m pretty sure that it wasn’t really a very big deal – chickens die every day so we can eat them.  Clearly, the loss of an innocent chick is sad, but in the scheme of all the travails on planet earth, this was microscopic.  But to the children in our family it was big.

So my wife comes in from the garage, with Brianna and Wynona.  She comes to me and says that she thinks we should all pray for Wynona and that Heavenly Father will bless her to make her better.  I must confess, at this point I was not happy with the situation.  I mean, c’mon, this is a little chick, we can buy a new one, and she’s lying in your hands convulsing.  I think she’s going to die and I’m Okay with that fact.  But I say, “Ok, we can pray.”  (There isn’t really another answer I can give to that question).  Rebecca amps it up one more level, though, and asks if I would offer the prayer.  Right now. 

So, house guests, kids and all, we kneel down and I say a quick prayer.  To be honest, I was embarrassed.  I didn’t want to pray about this with or in front of our guests, but I tried really hard to make the prayer as sincere as I could.  Our guests soon went home, promising to pray for Wynona as well.  I am sure that their kids offered prayers that night.  Rebecca and ours did and I probably did as well. 

Rebecca made a little bed for Wynona and she slept next to Rebecca on the night stand.  When Rebecca woke up the next morning and eagerly checked on our chick, she was as good as new and chirped a good morning reply to Rebecca. 

Amazing!  It was such a relief, but the Spirit flooded in to me as I realized it truly was the hand of God in our chick’s rescue.  I thought about it more and more and I finally decided that even though chickens die every day, pet chicks that kids have a special relationship with don’t die every day (or nearly as often, anyway).  I was convinced that God didn’t really care much for the chick, but he cared for our kids and wanted to show them that He hears and answers prayers, even if it wasn’t a “big” miracle, it was still a miracle, and our kids’ faith in prayer has been strong ever since.   

Advertisement