We worship the God of miracles. There’s no doubt about that.

But what about when the miracles don’t look quite like how we expect them to? What about when the miracle isn’t as clean, or quick, or epic as we would have liked?

They might even feel quite mundane or almost normal. There may still be some pain or difficulty attached to the process. We may find ourselves writing off those miracles, rationalising them as a cool but ultimately “explainable” occurrence in our lives.

At the end of 2019, I went to my dentist for what was expected to be a regular check-up. The following story is a great reason why you should continue having regular dental check-ups. My teeth had been crowding together a bit in my lower jaw, which was frustrating for someone who had had braces for two and a half years in high school. Assuming it was wisdom teeth, they X-rayed my mouth.

So there I am, sitting on the dentist chair, chattering away with my dentist who was a dear family friend, when I noticed he had fallen silent. I look over to see him examining my X-rays. Suddenly he grabs my arm.

“Monique,” he says in a panic. “Monique, it’s going to be okay. It's going to be okay.”

“What’s going to be okay?” I laugh nervously.

With great urgency, this normally mild-mannered man frantically explains that there is an abnormally large growth in my jaw. There was barely any bone left surrounding it.

And the rest of the day was a whirlwind.

“I don’t know how you haven’t shattered your jaw yet,” was the phrase I heard most often in the following months, especially as someone who practiced karate.

Things moved very quickly. Many more X-rays, blood tests, other tests, other scans, and hospital visits later, and I was headed into the theatre room for my first surgery ever. It had been over a month of prayer, predominantly for miraculous healing, and I was convinced that God would heal me. I’d heard stories of God making growths disappear, of tumours dissolving, and I thoroughly believed that would happen to me. I felt this incredible peace, and the Holy Spirit was my closest comfort during such a traumatic season.

Even when I woke up after the surgery, I expected the nurses to be raving about the miracle that had just happened.

A miracle had just happened. Many, in fact.

Just none of them involved the giant cyst in my jaw disappearing instantly.

It was miraculous that I was able to be moved through our public health system so quickly. Miraculous that I received such excellent doctors. Miraculous that this growth was spotted before an accident in my sports training might have left me with half my face in pieces.

But the miracle I expected did not occur. The cyst was still there, and I was left with a drain in my mouth for an entire year before I had a second surgery to remove the rest of the growth and close it up.

Friends, know that your faith grows when you realise your hope must be found in God, not in the outcome.

I experienced such disappointment when I went in for a check-up a year after that and the growth had gotten even bigger. I burst into tears in the hospital. I wasn’t as brave or as much of a witness to those wonderful doctors and nurses as I would have liked. My soul was tired of the hospital smell, my body was tired of the pain, and my heart was tired of disappointment.

I remember driving home, tears pouring down my face, railing against God for putting me through this again. Then asking for forgiveness and begging for this to be the last time.

I didn’t hope in the outcome this time. All I could cling to was my hope in Him.

Psalm 61:2-4 says,

“From the ends of the earth I call to you,

I call as my heart grows faint;

lead me to the rock that is higher than I.

For you have been my refuge,

a strong tower against the foe.

I long to dwell in your tent forever

and take refuge in the shelter of your wings.”

That was when another miracle happened. Less than 24 hours after getting the news, I was able to go into hospital for my third surgery, which was supernatural timing. And then another miracle happened. The growth came out perfectly intact right at the start of surgery, all in one go. The surgeons were so surprised because they had expected a much longer procedure. And because of this, there is a very high chance that it will never grow back. And the final miracle, I healed the fastest I ever have post-surgery. My face looked normal in less than a week!

I had my third, and I believe my last, surgery on my jaw ever. All my check-ups for the last year have been clear. But even if there are any more surgeries to come, I have learned to trust God. The miracles He performs may look different from what expect. You might miss a series of miracles because you’re looking for a something else.

Now looking back, I am thankful for the series of miracles, the incredible doctors and nurses I believe God intentionally placed in my life, the timing of the surgeries and the miraculous removal of the cyst. Although none of it was instant, I could see God’s hand in it.

A miracle is a sign pointing to the greatest hope of all: our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

We worship the God of miracles.

Lord, thank you that you are the God of miracles. May we always be aware that your supernatural favour is a gift, and may we always put our hope in you, regardless of the outcome of our prayers. God, I pray for an increase in faith for those who are struggling with the gap between their reality right now and the prayers they are hoping for. I pray for peace in the storms. I pray that your strength will carry us through. And we thank you that your will is always for good. Thank you for the small miracles in our lives and help us to see them more clearly in the moment. We trust you. Amen.