God Healed Our Washing Machine

No, seriously. A few weeks ago, our washing machine was broken — the water valve didn’t shut off, and the machine just chugged water until our house tank was empty.

We thought we were going to have to call a repairman (which, here? not always an easy experience). I waited a few days, hoping the machine would just start working again. It didn’t. So Cindy had the idea to pray for it.

“Why not?” I thought, and we did. Nothing long, just a quick prayer. Nothing happened, and I figured I’d call the service number the next day (a task which would require more prayer).

The next day the machine worked.

And the day after that, and the third day. As far as I know it’s still working (Sean took it up to the village for use there). I honestly don’t understand it, so I’ve decided to call it a miracle.

That’s right, I’ve decided. Some of you know my past with miracles. I don’t see them often, and I don’t always believe them. Often the ones I see can be explained away.

But that’s just it — everything that could be called a miracle can be explained away. Which means seeing is not, in fact, believing. Rather it’s the other way around. We decide whether miracles are real or not — we believe first. Then when something happens that we don’t understand, we apply our belief.

Once again, I am left with the realization that this whole God thing cannot be proven or disproven, not even if someone is raised from the dead (maybe they weren’t really dead) or a sea is parted (maybe it’s a fluke of the weather).

I guess that’s why they call it faith.

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