I’ve always had a problem with jealousy. Whenever I would hear a story about a miracle or someone seeing an angel, I would want to see my angel, too. I wanted God to do a miracle for me. But years went by, and I seemed doomed to disappointment—until one cold winter day.
Everybody has their burdens in life. One of mine is severe depression that plagues like a miasma. I’ve prayed to God countless times asking Him to take the depression away, but so far He has not. He hasn’t left me alone, however, and even though I still experience some very dark times, He has led me to discover ways to cope with them.
My miracle happened during one of those darkest of moments. I’d been depressed for several months straight. It was winter, and the air outside was frigid. My family has a lot of animals to care for, including horses, and during cold months those chores are very unappealing, especially when there’s a wind blowing, slicing through coats and chilling one down to the soul.
I awoke horrified that it was morning. I rather enjoyed the nothingness of sleep. It seemed that when I wasn’t sleeping, I was hurting. I didn’t want to leave my bed; I especially dreaded venturing out into that cold, blustery morning I saw through the window.
One thing that often helps to lift my depression a bit is warm water, but there was no time that morning to take a shower before I had to go outside. There would scarcely be time to wash my hands and face—and that would have to be done in cold water because the water in that particular bathroom takes at least 10 minutes before it gets warm.
So as I looked out the window at the blowing snow, I felt a deep sense of fatigue. I simply did not feel as if I could take another day. I begrudged the fact that I didn’t have time for a shower. I thought that maybe warm water would give me just a bit of a pick-me-up, and as I went into the bathroom I prayed to God, asking if He would help the water to be warm for me. I figured that would take a miracle, though.
I turned on the faucet, and water flowed out, full pressure and smooth. It took only a couple seconds to turn nice and warm. Wow. Thanks, God. I washed my hands, and I’m not afraid to admit that I took my time enjoying the warm water. Finally I peeled myself from the sink and started out into the hallway.
It was then that I noticed that everyone else in my family was bustling back and forth. I caught Mom in the kitchen and asked, “What’s going on?” She turned to me, flustered. “The water froze last night,” she said. “There’s no water in the house.”
What? I couldn’t believe it. I whirled around, hurried back into the bathroom, and turned on the water. Nothing came out—not even a solitary, cold drip, even though only moments before I’d washed my hands in full pressure for several long minutes. Talk about a pick-me-up. Wow. Thanks, God!
That was my miracle, and I’ll never forget it.
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Stephanie Knight writes from Dove Creek, Colorado. This article was published December 13, 2012.
