It's been a few days since Sunday, but I keep thinking about her, about us, about the importance of community and support. About prayer. About faith. And about miracles.
This past Sunday I was introduced to a young mother. I didn't know this woman at all...not face to face, but I knew her through faith. A month ago we sat in church when Fr. Vazken stopped the service, turned to us and asked the entire congregation, at that moment, to pray for Parik. She had gone into labor but things had gone wrong. Baby was delivered and taken to one hospital, while Parik lay in a coma for nine days! We have a prayer box at our church where people can drop in their prayer requests throughout the week, and at a point in the service, our priest will mention those names that need our prayers, and to ask God to grant them. But this Sunday was different. We were asked as a congregation, as a family, to please pray for Parik.
I asked my friends after church if they "felt it". I know I did. When everyone was in prayer collectively, it was different. My skin tingled at that moment, and I "KNEW" that she would be okay. Hard to explain it...but that was the feeling. The following day I asked Fr. Vazken if he had heard any news. "No. But I don't want to call." He explained to me that the act of calling would in a sense be almost like we were doubting -- checking up ---if our prayers worked. We had put in the request....now we just needed to continue, and most importantly, to believe.
Wednesday night at our Questions in Faith meeting, he made the announcement. "I received a call today. She opened her eyes." She was in a coma for nine days! She pulled through and was going to be okay.
That was two weeks ago. This past Sunday, we had a huge crowd at church. Afterward, we were outside talking when Fr. Vazken came to me, pointed out a pretty young woman and her husband and said, "That's Parik." It didn't register for a second, and then POW! I couldn't believe it. She looked normal, healthy, her husband - quiet and shy. I went up and hugged her. Poor woman, I don't really know what she thought. I introduced myself. "I'm so happy to see you here! We've all been praying for you! How are you? How's the baby?" I really felt like I knew her. People had started coming over, one by one, hugging her, giving thanks to God, welcoming this young mother and father as our own. She said, "The baby's fine. I'm so blessed, I have my son now." Soon we were all emotional and crying, "Happy tears," in Parik's words.
So what's the miracle? Is the miracle that she survived a coma after twelve days and is alive and well? Well, yes. But the bigger miracle is the transformation that happened to a group of faithful at our small church on the corner: It was the feeling of belonging...we were a church family and were in this together. It was genuine caring and concern for another human being in a day and age when we just don't hear that in the news. It was the renewal of faith and our belief that through God all things are possible...if you let go, and believe.
2 comments:
It was sort of surreal meeting Parik last Sunday. It's almost like your dream was alive right before your eyes. I totally relate to the "tingling" feeling, 'cause I totally felt that as we prayed for her that Sunday in church. Glory to God!
Suzie, you hit it on the head...that is exactly what it felt like..."your dream was alive right before your eyes."
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