It was the longest five minutes ever. I paced the hall, nearly wearing a hole in the carpet. My stomach turned; whether from nerves or something more, I’d soon find out. Finally, a shrill ringing filled the silence. The timer propelled me to the bathroom, where I sucked in a breath and reached for the test.
There was a time when the slim white stick meant a simple yes or no. I was no longer so naïve; I’d learned it could also mean “maybe,” with the potential to break my world apart. Memories, uninvited, crowded in: twice, in the past six months, a similar test had declared the affirmative: “new life!” Yet twice, in the same six months, we were folded in two not while welcoming life, but in grieving our children’s death. An emergency surgery, doctor’s words warning of potential infertility left me numbly shattered, fighting through the darkness. My heart whispered a barely-coherent prayer to our family patron: Please, Saint Jude. Pray we can have at least one more?
And suddenly there I was, back in the bathroom, tenuously reaching for the test.
“Yes!” It shouted.
“Maybe,” I whispered.
But appointment after appointment, all was well. It wasn’t until my third trimester that I made the connection: my due date, October 28, was Saint Jude’s feast day. I smiled innocently, never guessing that our beautiful son would actually make his arrival on that very date.
Now, every year on this Feast of Saints Simon and Jude, I tell my birthday boy the story of our Saint Jude Miracle—the story of his life.
But the irony of it all? When he was born, I thought it more a lovely little coincidence than anything else. It took hindsight and a deepening relationship with Jesus to truly recognize our absolutely astounding miracle straight from Heaven.
Maybe you, like me, tend to miss miracles. Maybe you’ve read today’s Gospel with skepticism, believing miracles are confined to history, or only true for others. But friends, our God is still very much in the business of miracles. From the forgotten miracles of every breath we breathe to the everyday providence by which He sustains us, Our Lord—indeed all of Heaven—is listening with love. Our friends the Saints, and above all our Passion-ridden Savior, accompany us through every heartache, trial and consolation of this life—continually making miracles happen along the way.
Our friends the Saints, and above all our Passion-ridden Savior, accompany us through every heartache, trial and consolation of this life—continually making miracles happen along the way.Click to tweet
Look closely: what miracles has God brought about in your life? Write them down or maybe share them with someone today, and thank God for His incredible goodness.
Megan Hjelmstad is a wife and mom 24/7 and an Army Reservist in her “spare” time. She’s a bibliophile, tea drinker, sleep lover, and avid admirer of Colorado’s great outdoors. When the writing bug hits, you can find out more about her here.