First stop: Doubt. Population: Millions.

     When God delivered the Israelites from Egypt, He did so with what could be considered much pomp and circumstance. While it is hard to think of the word "miracle" when one considers the plagues that befell Egypt, they were just that - miracles. Signs and wonders. From the burning bush to the manna in the desert. God was performing incredible miracles for all to see. And yet, how did the Israelites respond? Each time circumstances turned difficult, they doubted. They railed against Moses. They wailed and cried and often wished to be back in Egypt, once again enslaved but comforted by the familiar. I can certainly sympathize, I'm not an adventurous person myself and the familiar is, indeed, safer than the unknown. But I have always puzzled over their doubt. How could they doubt? God brought plagues, parted a sea and allowed them to walk across the seafloor to safety, He provided a guiding pillar of smoke and another of fire, poured down food from heaven. . . ! I am certain I would never doubt God if He manifested such extraordinary miracles in my presence.
     Or would I? What is the nature of a miracle? Is the word "miracle" not defined as an extraordinary act of divine intervention?

An extraordinary act of divine intervention.

     Does a miracle have to be as awesome as the parting of a sea for us to count it as such? Or can a miracle be . . . quieter? Certainly just as awe inspiring but on a smaller scale. A kind stranger when you were at the end of your rope. Twenty dollars pressed into your palm by someone that whispered "God wanted me to share this with you" without realizing you couldn't feed your children that day. A call, out of the blue, from a friend when you need someone the most. We tend not to think of such things as miracles. Some even might call them coincidences. But make no mistake - they are, indeed, extraordinary acts of divine intervention - and at the time we usually recognize them as such. But, like the Israelites, we often forget those gloriously intimate moments with God and allow doubt to take root again.
     While reading Exodus recently, I realized that I, too, doubt God even in the face of wondrous miracles. Divorced, caring for two children alone, struggling with Lupus, my daughter's severe disabilities, and financial difficulties, I have met God many times in both friends and strangers alike. And yet, when the next crisis occurs, I doubt. How can I possibly look at the Israelites with incredulity when I am no different? Does it matter that paying the rent isn't as "showy" a miracle as parting a sea? Because despite the fact that it was not a miracle to garner worldwide attention, being gifted with the money to pay my rent was still an extraordinary act of divine intervention. A miracle I prayed for most fervently and a miracle that God delivered, among many others. Some of those miracles I have forgotten. Isn't that terrible? Moments that God made it clear that He was right there, by my side, actively working in my life, and I've forgotten many of them. Life moved on and those "ordinary" miracles were forgotten in the overwhelming worry of the next difficulty.
     Aren't we lucky Moses took the time to commit to paper the many miracles God performed for the Israelites? Imagine those events occurring now and Moses authoring a blog:

'Yesterday God parted the Red Sea so that we could walk to safety. It was an extraordinary feat, a glorious example of the power and majesty of our God. Today the people look out at the desert before us and think maybe they should have stayed in Egypt. God, give me patience!'

     Perhaps the Israelites would have been a little less doubtful if they had the chance to read daily summaries of their activities, realizing that God always saved them. But, somehow, I doubt it. After all, I have the entire Bible of miracles as well as the experience of miracles in my own life and still I doubt. I worry. I become consumed with anxiety and fear. I forget miracles.
     Luckily, God does not. He does not forget that we are human and fallible. He does not forget that He loves us and has gone to great lengths to save us - usually from ourselves - time and again. Rather, He walks patiently with us, working miracles and weaving them into the tapestry of our lives so effortlessly that they appear as common occurrences to us, appreciated in the moment but quickly forgotten. It would seem that little has changed since the time of Moses.
     I'd like to conclude with some suggestion, some divinely inspired gem of wisdom that will take away all of your doubts, fears, and mine, but I have none. I am not, after all, Solomon. I probably would have asked for wealth, or beauty, or the love of a particular someone. If I'd had a little time to ponder maybe even calorie free chocolate. But not wisdom. And so I will leave you with this: GOD HAS YOUR BACK. Write that down somewhere because you are going to forget it soon. And you know what? God will have your back anyway. And that, dear reader, is the most extraordinary act of divine intervention of all.