“Lots of people talk about miracles,
but, let’s face it, no one has ever really experienced one,” my friend said.
“At least no one I know,” he added.
Then I told him my story, a truly
miraculous tale of God’s direct intervention in a crucial second. Do you
believe in miracles?
In the spring of 1981, my then
3-year-old daughter, Sarah, and I were in the family room of our home. I had my
sewing box out, and I was doing some mending while Sarah played.
My son, Matthew, who was in
kindergarten, had given me a retractable measuring tape for Christmas the
previous year. It was a small one; the tape was no more than one-quarter of an
inch wide. Sarah enjoyed pulling the end out, pushing the button and watching
the tape spin back inside again. It was a harmless play toy, or so I thought.
I became involved with my mending and
wasn’t paying a lot of attention to her play.
When I looked up, I saw Sarah red-faced,
the measuring tape bound closely around her neck with several tight knots in
it.
I quickly dropped my mending and ran to help
her.
I tried to untie the knots, but they
wouldn’t budge. The thin plastic tape was bound so tightly, the knots held
true. I grabbed a pair of scissors in an effort to cut the tape off, but I was
concerned about stabbing her or cutting her in the neck with the point of the
shears. After several unsuccessful attempts of carefully trying to get the scissors
under the tape, the tape held tightly. I could not get scissors under it
without risking serious injury to her neck — or worse.
By this time, Sarah was struggling to breathe,
and her face was growing redder. It was such an effort for her to get air that
she couldn’t even cry.
I realized that I couldn’t untie it, and
I couldn’t cut it off. I briefly considered calling 911, but I was doubtful if
an ambulance could make it in time.
I touched the tape, frantic and trembling,
desperately attempting to remove it one more time. In total anguish I cried
out, “Dearest Jesus, please help me!”
Instantly, after my desolate plea, the
measuring tape came loose and unwound, making it easy for me to remove it. The
tape fell on the floor with one stubborn knot remaining; the other knots were,
well, gone.
I held Sarah tightly, both of us shaking
with emotion, trying to comprehend what had just occurred. I knew that I was
not able to get the knots undone, but they were undone anyway.
Upon reflection, however, I knew what
had happened. In a time of peril, I called on the precious name of Jesus, and
He answered my earnest plea in a heartbeat. I felt as if I had witnessed
something as spectacular as Peter walking on water or Jesus healing the sick —
a supernatural intervention by a great and loving God.
“In my distress I called upon the Lord;
to my God I cried for help. From His temple He heard my voice, and my cry to
Him reached His ears.” Psalm 18:6
Can you explain it? Neither can I, but I
do believe in miracles.
