I attended a “holiday” party a few years ago while I was working at a boutique public relations agency. I was talking with a female friend and she mentioned that she had an appointment to determine if she was a candidate for in-vitro fertilization. Apparently she and her husband had been trying to conceive a child for a few years and were unsuccessful. She began to tell me that it was unfair because her sister, who she believed was not a good mother, already had several children. I’m not sure how we got on the subject, but she told me that she didn’t believe in God, although she’d come from a fairly religious home. In her opinion, there couldn’t be a God or else why would he make it easy for her sister have babies, and so difficult for her?
I’m always fascinated by what drives a person not to believe in a higher power after once believing in one. For my own edification I like to hear what was their turning point. Many people, not all, have very specific times in their lives when they simply chose not to believe anymore. So I asked a couple of questions. It was a very polite conversation but she was adamant that she would never believe in God no matter what.
I noticed a couple of things. She was hurting inside. Apparently there had been some verbal abuse by her very strict religious parents. It seemed that she felt like the outcast in the family growing up, with her sister getting more favorable attention. Even as adults, her sister’s shortcomings prompted additional nurturing from her parents, while she received less for doing more.
But larger than that, she really wanted to be a mom. This also fascinated me because I got the distinct impression that she wanted to be a mom so she could be a completely different mom than her mom was. She was a kind woman and we always got along and I had no doubt she would be. But the stress of trying to conceive was getting to her.
She told me that I could never get her to believe in God so I shouldn’t try. I told her I would never try impose my beliefs on anyone. I am not comfortable trying to convert anyone. I simply wanted to understand. I changed the subject and we began talking about kids. She began to cry. She truly wanted to have a child.
During a quiet moment I prayed for her. I asked God to show her a miracle. I asked God to show her a huge miracle, something that would illustrate that a Higher Power was active in the changes in her life. I asked God to give her a baby.
A few weeks later we spoke in the office and I learned that the in-vitro did not work. I remember her mentioning that she and her husband were considering adoption as an alternative. I also remembered the prayer I made on her behalf.
A few months later I found out that she was two months pregnant. No in-vitro, no hormones, just regular conception.Spik aead 3-4 years and she now has two children, both conceived through completely natural methods.
I never told her that I prayed for her, and I’m not saying that my prayer magically changed her body. I’m not even saying that God came and fixed the problem. But it is a miracle that she was able to conceive a child after once being unable to conceive a child. Maybe one day I will tell her of my prayers for her. We still communicate every so often via Facebook. Perhaps she won’t even remember the conversation.
What I’m really fascinated by is that fact that this recollection came to me at a time when I am stressed, have doubts, and I have a multitude of tasks to do with no apparent means to get them done. Maybe the effect of the incident at the party years ago culminates in the here and now.
Perhaps it is a reminder that miracles do happen, and that they happen to folks who have no idea they’ve just taken part in, or benefitted from… a miracle.