I was 19 years old and 928 miles from home on the day my motorcycle ran into the side of a car in Powell, Wyoming.  The local policeman wrote me a ticket while the radiologist x-rayed, and doctors cast my broken leg and stitched the gash on my nose.

For the next two days my leg pulsed like a pounding toothache.  A friend dropped me off at the local church on Wednesday night – the same time my Minneapolis prayer group met every week.  After hopping to the front church pew, my leg throbbed to the rhythm of my heart.

I knew the prayer warriors from home had promised to pray for me on my trip, so I opened my Bible to Matthew 8:8 where the Roman centurion told Jesus, “Lord, I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. But just say the word, and my servant will be healed.”  With that in mind, I asked God to hear the prayers of my friends back home and to heal me.   And the throbbing stopped!

The next day I set my casted right leg on the crash bar of my repaired motorcycle, and to my mother’s horror, I drove the bike back home to Minneapolis.  By the time I got home, all the road vibrations had busted the cast up pretty bad, so I went to my local doctor to get a new cast.  After taking new x-rays, the doctor muttered and cussed how my leg wasn’t even broken.  Then he exclaimed, “Stand up and get out of here!” but all could hear was Jesus saying, “Pick up your mat, stand up and walk!”   So I praised Almighty God for his miracle and walked with one bare leg, right out that doctor’s office.

Which way do you think?  Was it a miracle or a misdiagnosis?

Do you have your eyes open to receive miracles or are you skeptical?   Are you already thankful for all the little miracles (like breathing air, seeing beauty, hearing music, or loving people) that happen so often in our lives?   Consider if you’re not grateful for little miracles, how can you expect to be promoted to big ones?  Or how about a broader question:  Do you believe in God because you see miracles, or do you see miracles because you believe in God?