By: Lindsey Althaus
I always get chills thinking about miracles. You know the BIG, LOUD MIRACLES you see videos or stories about online. If you are like me, life has brought you to your knees a time or two. There are certain words, smells, sounds, or stories that take you back to dark moments when you felt like God would never bring you through. The moments where you were living by breaths and not minutes. The moments that you’re left wanting the Lord to provide a LOUD MIRACLE. Those moments are hard and often marked by desperation and uncertainty. The time we spent in the NICU was one of those moments for my family.
Breath of Life
Our son, Whitman, was born at a hospital that was ill-equipped for his arrival. He was consequently rushed to a hospital 45 minutes away from where he was born. During those first few minutes, I can remember praying for a miracle. That miracle came in the form of a friend, who also happened to be a respiratory therapist in the NICU. She was supposed to be off but was called in for another reason. She was able to put life into Whit's lungs. Whitman dodged many issues and simply required some breathing treatments. We were originally told we would spend seven weeks in the NICU, but it turned out to only be a two-week stay. This miraculous experience was, for us, evidence of God’s sovereignty.
The God of the Low Whisper
I wanted a miracle that was loud. Like when God would speak to Moses or like the miracles I hear about online. But my miracle didn’t come like that. Instead, it came like the low whisper that God gave Elijah in 1 Kings 19:11-13. God did reveal himself to Elijah, but it wasn’t through the huge wind, earthquake, or fire, but through a low whisper.
We serve a God who shows up in many ways, but I love the God of the low whisper. He is the God who shows up when you’re on your bathroom floor when you’re staring at the incubator at 3 a.m. wondering why this is your life, when life is so hard and you aren’t sure how you’re going to make it the next minute. Our God doesn’t need fanfare and news stories. He sees us and shows up for us where we are without confetti (which some days is disappointing because I love confetti). He shows up in moments of low whispers, like during a NICU stay. He is there for you right now, whether you’re struggling in a dark moment or standing in the light. Listen for the low whisper.
Lindsey lives in Ohio with her husband and two children, Whitman and Genevieve. It's a true honor for her to share her story. Follow her on social media.