The subtitle of my book reads “the miraculous life of an ordinary person”. The blurb on the back refers to miracles too. And yes, inside my book I do share stories of many miracles that I have experienced: some might seem small and almost insignificant, while others are unmistakeable and life-changing. One thing I have learned from being friends with God is that if you hang around with Him long enough, you will most likely get to experience miracles.

But what about the times when you don’t? What about all those people who pray faithfully asking God for a miracle, and who don’t get it?

Of all the questions and concerns I had about writing my book, this was the one that almost stopped me going ahead. More than one person expressed concern that my story might alienate people who didn’t get the miracle they wanted; that it might make them feel like somehow second-class Christians, unloved and inferior – and that is absolutely not the truth.
Among those closest to me there are those who I know God dearly loves, but who didn’t get the miracle their heart so deeply desired. And as you’ll read in the book, there have also been times when I didn’t get the miracle I was fervently praying for either. I am painfully familiar with the heartbreak involved. So I wanted to write this post for all those who didn’t get the miracle they longed for – because my heart is with you.

It’s not that I have a nice tidy answer – I don’t. There are two obvious paths we are usually tempted to take out of heartbreak: either blame God as if He was some kind of cruel deity playing with our lives, or blame ourselves for not having enough faith, not praying enough, not being good enough. But ultimately neither approach helps – they both lead inevitably to us going round in circles, re-living the pain and getting no relief. The only path that actually leads to healing is to seek Him in the pain and confusion, and allow Him to draw near and comfort us even when there are no easy answers. And that’s not easy or tidy – but when we know He is with us, He gives us the strength to keep going.

I remember one miracle in particular that I didn’t get, I prayed over and over for God to show me what to do, what to pray, to please lead me to whatever it was I needed for the breakthrough (as if the answer somehow depended on me) but He never did. It wasn’t because He didn’t love me, or because I couldn’t hear Him. Honestly, I still don’t know why. Sometimes we just don’t get the answers this side of eternity. But what He did show me is this: He loves us. Not in a bland, detached, nicey-nicey-platitude way, but in a get-down-in-the-dirt-and-rip-His-own-heart-open-to-grieve-with-us kind of way.
Because that’s the message of the Cross: He’s not the kind of God to leave us alone to suffer. He knows life on earth is a painful one, and in fact Jesus expressly told us that in this life we would have trouble (John 16:33). Nobody gets out of life without pain. But that’s why He came: to live with us; be tempted like us; and die for us so that we will never have to be alone. And ultimately (the very best news) to take us home with Him where there is no more suffering.

And that’s why I went ahead with writing my book, despite the risk that it might trigger some people’s pain. Because ultimately the ‘miraculous life’ is merely the subtitle – it’s not the main message. The real title, and the thing that I hope readers see that my book – and indeed life itself – is all about, is friendship with God. Sometimes we get to see miracles; sometimes we don’t get the ones we want. But either way, God wants to walk with us through it – through the highs and lows and every-day mundane. And thanks to Jesus, we can do that. We are never alone.

So keep praying, keep seeking those miracles – He loves to bless us. But if you don’t get the one you are hoping for, don’t let it keep you away from Him. Whether or not we see the miracles we hope for, we can have something better: the biggest miracle of all, His friendship with us.

Ever feel like your attempt to do something good has become a series of mistakes? That’s me right now with my book…

• I’ve written something that I hope anyone can read, rather than focusing on a single target audience as writers are advised to do.
• I’m self-publishing on my own, rather than going with a publisher who can put their weight behind getting it out to the world.
• I’ve written in a genre – memoir – which I am told is not in vogue right now.
• And I’m publishing it in December, said to be too late for most of the Christmas gift-shopping season.

All things considered, it looks pretty foolish. And when professional writers, publishers, and those in the know remind you of the ‘right’ or ‘best’ way to do things it can be a bit disheartening, even if they are only trying to help.

But as I recently pondered the folly of my endeavours, I was reminded of the verse in 1 Corinthians 1:27, that says “God has deliberately chosen to use ideas the world considers foolish and of little worth in order to shame those people considered by the world as wise and great” (the Living Bible). It encouraged me that God likes to use silly things and ordinary people – that sometimes being successful in the world’s eyes is not the same as doing what pleases Him.
Yes I could take the world’s route and try to write a book that would be accepted in mainstream circles, all polished, perfected and professional – or I can embrace the ‘foolish’ route, and simply publish what God has put in my heart, written to the best of my ability, and then trust Him with the rest. I choose the latter.

After all, doing it ‘the wrong way’ can be like the surprise view that I saw out of my kitchen window this morning. On this very grey and damp mid-November day, I saw a beautiful yellow rose in my garden, bravely and cheerfully blooming completely out of season (I know there are some varieties that can bloom this late, but I am sure this one is meant to be a summer rose). And it made me think, maybe God’s plan for my book-done-the-wrong-way is for it to be like a rose blooming in the ‘wrong’ season – bringing unexpected cheer to people on miserable days. I’ll take that!

It’s funny, isn’t it? We all know the old dictum “Don’t judge a book by its cover”, but if we all really lived by that rule, writers and book designers wouldn’t spend anywhere near the time they do agonising over every shade of colour, every size of image and every style of font that they use.

And I have to confess that I, like most readers, totally do judge books by their covers – at least when we are talking about literal books. So although I had no idea what I wanted for my book cover, I knew it was important to get it right. That’s why I was so thrilled to connect with Liz Carter of ‘Great Adventure’ – I love her work. And after giving her the vaguest of briefs, the very first image she sent me blew me away! I love the way it shows a little girl gazing up into the vast beautiful mystery that represents my friendship with God. For me, it’s a perfect cover.

Of course, in every other sense, my entire book hinges on NOT judging a metaphorical book by its cover. I mean, take the subtitle: “the miraculous life of an ordinary person”. It is not false modesty to say that in myself I am very ordinary. My husband and my mum might disagree, but they are duty bound to be biased, and I love them for it. No, someone might walk past me in the park, smile and say “Hi”, and think ‘strange boots’, or ‘nice coat’, or even, ‘wow, dogs really do look like their owners’, but I’m pretty sure nobody would think ‘oooh I bet she’s got some miracle stories to share’.

Because that’s the point, isn’t it? The Bible tells us that God hides His most precious treasure “in unworthy earthen vessels of human frailty” (2 Cor 4:7 – Amplified version). – or as the Message puts it, “in the unadorned clay pots of our ordinary lives.” There’s that word again: ordinary. Every one of us ordinary folk has treasure inside, especially if we walk with God. And that verse has given me great comfort as I have been writing this book, feeling utterly inadequate and overwhelmed by the task I was attempting.

So I have taken the pressure off myself to write an extraordinary book, and simply contented myself with cracking open the clay pot of my life and inviting you, the reader, to have a peek inside, in the hope that you will find treasure there. And thankfully, although my life may be ordinary, I do now have a fabulous cover!

Can I confess, I don’t actually like endorsements? The prickly, principled part of me absolutely cringes at the concept of asking people (the ‘bigger’ the name, the better) to write nice things about your work that will persuade other people to spend their money on paying for it. It all seems so cynical and worldly. But those more experienced than I have persuaded me that it is a good and healthy way to help my book reach more people, and if I believe in my message that has to be a good thing! I’m still uneasy about it, but the whole publishing process – since the fun of writing the first draft ended – has been about leaving the comfort zone where I usually hide. So with a deadline approaching I approached two friends who are consistently encouraging to me, and who have written their own books. I figured asking them for endorsements was the least cynical (though still cringe-inducing) approach.

And when my friend Anne’s endorsement hit my inbox yesterday, it was a totally beautiful boost. At times I have kept slogging on with multiple edits and other practical and peripheral elements involved with publishing, simply because to give up now would feel even worse. I’ve invested too much – I’m committed to seeing it through to the end. But yesterday her beautiful words reminded me that my book has a life and a future beyond the ‘finish line’ of publication. And it’s that future that matters – it’s about the readers who will read it for the first time like Anne did, and be impacted and encouraged by it… who may even meet God in it. And that truly makes it all worth while!

So I choose to ignore the cringing fear of self-promotion, and am sharing it here: my first ever official endorsement, for all to see! Come on, little book – I’m cheering you on!