Devotionals

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Move the Mountain

I am often engaged in discussions about “hearing God”. These discussions often occur during Bible studies, both those I attend and those I teach. Although there are a wide range of opinions and perspectives regarding whether God still “talks” to us in modern times, for me there is no doubt in the matter. I truly believe God speaks to us every day. It may come in many forms and fashions; and it may not always be recognizable. But it sometimes is; you just have to listen for Him. While there is no burning bush in this story, there is also no mistaking the voice of God either.

My daughter was born in 2002, and during her delivery, she suffered a Brachial Plexus Injury (BPI). A BPI is the damaging of the nerves connecting the spine to the arm at the shoulder socket area. Doctors told us there was very little they could do, and that surgery to repair the nerves was rarely successful enough to provide much, if any arm movement or functionality. We were told that the best-case scenario would allow her arm to function at about 10%, but, if there was not movement within the first month, it was probable she would never gain any movement or use.

From the time she left the hospital, we took her to therapy three times a week to do exercises that would stimulate the nerves and muscles, hopefully causing the nerves to find alternative paths to the arm. Our therapist explained as she exercised her arm, the movements would simulate what would occur naturally and thus the brain would try to send signals to the muscles to account for the movement. If this occurred, then the brain would learn a path to the muscles and she might regain some arm movement. After several months of therapy with no improvement, my daughter’s arm was still paralyzed and things were not looking very promising; our hopes were diminishing rapidly. Both my wife and I were struggling with all the emotions that accompany such an event. Why did this happen? What could we have done differently? What did we do to deserve this? Why God, why?

When my daughter was around six months old, I was playing with her on the living room floor. I was jiggling toys above her head, trying to get her to reach out to them. I repeated the movements and exercises I had learned from the therapist, but was getting the same results, nothing. I felt completely helpless and hopeless.

Full of anguish and frustration I blurted out, “God, what do You want me to do?”

I began to cry softly, my anger turned back to hopelessness. My stomach ached as I sat there wishing to hear a voice that would answer my questions and make me understand what was going on and what it was He wanted me to do. All I received was deafening silence. I knelt over my daughter, as she lay there giggling and cooing at me. Innocent, fragile, pure.

Broken and defeated, I grabbed her arm and began to pray again to God for help and understanding, “God, I need you,” I stated simply.

At that instant, during my time of humbleness and weakness, a picture entered my head. It was as clear as could be, but completely out of context to what I was expecting. Words from the book of Matthew flashed through my mind. I did not remember the exact verse number, but I could hear Jesus talking to the disciples about having the faith of a mustard seed, and that if you ask the mountain to move, it will. I knew what God wanted me to do. He wanted me to ask Him to fix my daughter’s arm. He wanted me to ask Him to move the mountain.

The thought was now so obvious, why had I not realized that before? Why had I not just asked Him for the obvious? Why had I just been asking Him ‘why’? Was I afraid of the answer? Was I afraid that if she did not move her arm that it would be a reflection on my faith? Would it symbolize my relationship with God? All of those were true I suspected. I was more afraid of being told no, than the possibility that my daughter’s arm would improve. I was afraid it might not be His will to heal her arm. I was afraid of how I would react if that were the case.

I knew that God’s will supersedes our will. I thought of Jesus praying in the garden of Gethsemane where he clearly prays His requests, but flatly declares that the Father’s will take precedent. I recited the Lord’s Prayer, emphasizing the ‘Thy will be done’ part.

I sat there in a crisis of belief. My faith was on the line. Was my faith strong enough to withstand the answer? Would I be able to take “No” for an answer? Would it be strong enough to understand that God was in control and all things work for His good? Would I be able to accept that?

I knew what I had to do. Not just for my daughter’s arm, but for my relationship with God as well. I submitted myself completely to His control and prayed He would heal her arm. I prayed that she would lift her arm and He would make it strong. I prayed hard in my request, but I also acknowledged to God that He was in control, and that His will shall be done. I let God know that whatever His will was, I would still love Him and have faith in Him. He was my God.

After I finished praying, I lie there looking at my daughter as she rolled around on the mat. Her eyes were so bright and she was so innocent to the struggles of the world that lay before her. I knew at that moment that no matter what happened, with God in our lives we would be all right. She would be all right. I could take “No” for an answer.

As the calm and peace came over me, I could feel God filling the room. I looked down at her as she smiled up at me. I smiled back, and that is when I noticed, my daughter was wiggling her fingers for the first time in her life. The mountain had moved. God had displayed His presence and His power to me with the slightest movement of an infant’s finger. I could hear Him loud and clear.

My daughter is now eight years old and has about 50-70% functionality of her arm. Through other miracles of God, we found a pioneer in this field who has operated on her arm and greatly improved her mobility. Each week she continues to go to therapy as well as perform exercises at home. She plays basketball, softball, and soccer. She rides her bike and lets nothing slow her down. Our hope and faith continue to grow stronger, right along with her arm.

God does speak to us. It is up to us to listen. We must ask the right question and be willing to accept the answer. Faith and trust are what give us the ability to do that. Have faith. Pray.

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