You are the God of miracles.

I have witnessed miracle after miracle.  Yet, when I am faced with a mountain, instead of telling that mountain to move, instead of telling that mountain how big my God is, I doubt.

I worry.

I fret.

One week ago from yesterday, my world was flipped upside down and turned inside out.

I called my dad with the intention of telling him about my run and instead I was told he had been sick for three days.

He went to the hospital to have a scan done and they found a mass in his colon.

I tried to not worry. I knew God could take care of him. I knew this, but I still worried.

Thursday, we found out the mass would have to be removed regardless of whether or not it was malignant. He would have to have surgery to have it cut out because of where it was located.

Instead of doing the things I know to do. Instead of falling to my knees in prayer, I ate my feelings in the form of Buffalo Wild Wings and a bag of Twix and I worried.

I called my best friend, I texted my life group, and I talked my husband’s ear off. I looked anywhere and everywhere I could look for peace instead of calling on the only one who could change the situation.

It’s the things nightmares are made of.

Honestly, it was one of my worst fears and it was happening.

We went home for Easter. I knew how important it was to remain positive and happy.  I could have won an Academy Award for my acting skills. Deep down I was terrified.  How could this be happening? HOW? My dad. The one who takes such good care of himself. The one who runs or bikes every day. Rain or shine.

He is my superman. He is my rock. This can’t happen to him.  In the past year I have lost two people I love to cancer. I couldn’t bare to even think about the possibilities or the future. He had a colonoscopy scheduled for Monday.

My family, being the circus of a family we are, all decided to accompany him to that procedure so that we could be there to hear any results he may be given. As the day got closer, my stomach was in knots.

Sunday night, Trey ran into the gas station to get me a Dr. Pepper.

I sat in that car and I cried out to Jesus. It was the most honest, real, and raw prayer I have ever prayed. I told him I was unworthy of his love. I told him I did not deserve for him to answer any of my prayers. I told him how great of a God he was and how I knew he could do miracles. I told him how much I love my dad. I told him how much my family needs my father. I told him how good of a man my dad is. I begged and I begged and I begged.

Then I left it.  I felt a sense of peace wash over me.

I knew, and I know, God can answer prayers. God can heal.

I also knew sometimes, God doesn’t heal. Sometimes,  good good people suffer. Sometimes, good people die.

Children get cancer.

Babies die. People who desperately want children, are unable to have children. Children are abused. Christians are being murdered. I could go on for days about the things that break my heart, and about prayers that aren’t answered the way we want them to be.

Bad things happen to good people every day.

And God is STILL GOOD. Even when he doesn’t answer our prayers.

In the end, I knew God would still be good. I knew I would still serve him. I knew he would still be my Savior, but I hoped and prayed for a miracle.

Sunday night, in our living room, I held the hands of my sister, mom, dad, and husband, and we prayed. I prayed in a very shaky and unsure voice. I prayed with my voice cracking. I quoted scripture and I claimed the victory and the healing I knew God could give us the following day.

Monday morning we arrived at the hospital, gave my dad a hug, and sat in the waiting room. We got a few looks. Because, who has six people waiting on a colonoscopy procedure? Our family. That’s how we roll.

The nurse came out after 40 minutes and said we could go back and see my dad. My mom and sister went first. Because well, the entire circus couldn’t go back at once.

We heard laughing. Then the doctor came out to the waiting room. He was smiling. He said, “Guys, I just had to come out and tell you, there’s no mass. There was absolutely nothing there.” He then showed us the pictures and explained what we were looking at.

Then and there.

With tears welling up in my eyes. I heard in my spirit, “Why are you surprised?”

I don’t know.

It’s not that I didn’t think he could. I knew he could. I just didn’t know IF he would. Because, I am not deserving of his grace. I am not deserving of his love. I fail him daily.  This idea that I could ever do enough good to be worthy of his grace is obviously not true and yet, that is a lie Satan tells me on the regular.

OF COURSE I DON’T DESERVE HIS GRACE! NO ONE DOES!

But, he is a LOVING father. He freely gives that grace to all who call upon his name.

If you are facing a mountain, tell that mountain to move. Tell that problem how big your God is. Trust him. He is a good good father and He is the God of miracles.