FocusOnTheFamily

Small miracles

Written by Amanda Smith Regier

I didn’t always believe in miracles. I’d heard some first-hand accounts of sight restored and limbs repaired. Even then I had my doubts.

And then I got married.

In our first year of marriage I’d run into other newlyweds who would invariably say things like, “Isn’t married life wonderful?” – more an exclamation than a question.

On a morning when hubby got up early to make the coffee, then took time to send a cute mid-day email, I might offer a hearty, “Amen!” But on those days when my compulsive midnight snacker leaves crumbs all over the kitchen, or mistakes me for a full-time housekeeper rather than a writer, I usually beg to differ.

For these all too frequent occasions, I eventually devised a standard response to avoid causing concern or offense: “Yes, it certainly is a miracle,” I’ll say, inwardly adding, A miracle people survive the first year.

Sometimes I’m sure I must be at the centre of some elaborate social experiment: “What do you get when you relocate a needy, temperamental writer and her overworked PhD student husband to a foreign land?”

Our first year of marriage was nothing, if not difficult. In our first 365 days: we married; we moved house four times (three times across the Atlantic), leaving behind beautiful Vancouver for a chilly Scottish port town; Dean began his PhD in economics; I quit an editing job I loved in order to brave the lonely and terrifying world of freelance writing; we both discovered we had married our equal in over-sensitivity and the need to be right; and I discovered the potential depths of my anger and how to provoke his.

No, marriage hasn’t been easy. But at the same time, God’s provision – His everyday miracles – have never been more evident.

For example, in a city of ancient, overpriced granite tenements, we found a warm, refurbished, two-bedroom flat in the heart of town for $500 less than the going rate, and a landlord who let us spend August’s rent on new furniture: miracle.

On our first Sunday in Scotland, we unknowingly sat beside the church’s intern pastor and his new wife who, along with two other couples we met that very day, have become true friends: another miracle.

We have weekends, uninterrupted by the usual social obligations of home, to enjoy each other’s company while exploring ancient castles and gorgeous seaside villages: a fun miracle.

The college across the road hired me two days per week to write press releases, at a rate equivalent to my old full-time salary: definitely a miracle.

My husband received two substantial scholarships: he’s pretty smart, but I’d say that’s a miracle, too.

And on top of all that, Dean kisses me each morning, in spite of my horrid coffee breath. We are quick to forgive. We’ve discovered degrees of joy we hadn’t previously thought existed. We make (sometimes very poor) attempts at being lovable, but are able to look at one another at the end of each day and sincerely say, “I love you.” Each time we lay aside our own desires to accommodate our partner’s, it’s as great a feat as moving a mountain. It’s God molding us into His image.

Some time ago, I stopped gauging the success of my marriage by weighing the joyful moments against the challenging ones. I learned that marriage is only miraculous when it includes both the good and the bad. It’s easy to love someone when they leave flowers on your pillow in the morning, but much more difficult when later they steal that pillow and drool on it in their sleep. Marriage is a miracle because in it, God shows us His limitless grace, extending far beyond what we previously thought imaginable.

Miraculously, my husband is helping me to be more like Christ and I’m returning the favour – one personality quirk at a time.

Amanda Smith Regier and her husband Dean are currently experiencing God’s small miracles in Aberdeen, Scotland.

© 2007 Focus on the Family (Canada) Association. All rights reserved.

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