By LaShawn Cliatt

But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.

Acts 1:8

I remember growing up in a Baptist church and at a young age learning about God. We went to the gospel service at church on a military base. Every Sunday, we knew from the time church started at 1 p.m. to at least 4 p.m., we were not leaving. We always brought snacks with us so we could “survive,” as my sister and I would say. 

Growing up, I had a love/hate relationship with God and with church. I thought church was a game and something I had to do because my mom went. I never took it seriously. I sang in the choir because my mom did, I served in children's church because my grandma did and I helped with VBS over the summer because it would look good as volunteer hours on my college applications.

I went through a lot of ups and downs growing up: my parents divorcing, feelings of being unloved and unwanted due to my father leaving, searching for love with and through everyone else instead of looking to God for the love I was searching.  I felt like God was someone whom people called out to but was not real. He was like the wind: you knew it was there, but you could not see it. I was always told that there was a calling on and a purpose for my life, and that I was going to do great things; but I never believed it when people would say it. The words felt empty and bounced off of me. 

Going to church became a performance. I would see people “catch” the Holy Ghost and run around the church, I would see people fall at the altar, I heard people screaming and praying—but to me it was all a show. I was told the more screaming, praying and “catching the Spirit” happened, the more miracles we would see. At the time, I did not believe miracles were possible. All you had to do was watch the news to see tragedy after tragedy after tragedy. Where was God in that? Where were all of the miracles everyone talked about? Where was the “light” that we were supposed to be able to see in others? Where was God?

Think about what the disciples thought about in Jesus’ time. Pilate was extremely unfair to the Jewish people. The taxes were very high and there were rules for when they could and could not fish. The Jews had been praying for hundreds of years for the Messiah, for their miracle—and when it came, they didn’t believe it. Jesus was met with such resistance that no one realized He was and is the only miracle that they would ever need. He healed the sick, raised people from the dead, turned water into wine at his cousin's wedding (a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence) and—my favorite—flipped tables in the temple.  But let us not forget that the ultimate miracle, the ultimate sacrifice, was when Jesus died for our sins. That is a miracle for which we should all be thankful. 

In life, we are able to witness miracles every day: waking up every morning; seeing a baby born; celebrating a family member's birthday, graduation, wedding, etc. God has given us all wonderful lives to be able to see miracles in the little things.  At times, it will feel like God is not there and that He is distant, but look up. He is always there, and you are a miracle in the making so that others are able to witness the light of God through you.