Asking for miracles can be tough. Huh? How on earth can that be difficult?! 

I've never had trouble asking God for things, even miracles. It was second nature to me. But this past two years, I've been struggling to ask for a miracle for myself. I struggle a lot with anxiety and panic attacks, to the point where my lifestyle reflects it.

This past summer at camp, every morning during devotions I would flip to a random page in my Bible. And every morning the passage would be either a story where Jesus heals someone, or someone is talking about healing. Over and over, God was knocking on the door of my heart. I could hear Him saying "just ask me, I want to heal you. Just ask me." He was begging me to simply ask.

This went on for two weeks. It was probably the most stressfull thing I've been through in several years. One morning, after devotions, the pastor stood to speak, as he did every morning. I forget the exact wording, but he quoted some verses and then said he had noticed that in the Bible, people often had to ask others for prayer in order to be healed.

He then said "I know that as leaders it is often very difficult to come to each other with our problems, and it is so much easier to ask people if you can pray for them, but the Bible shows us over and over that asking for prayer is essential. So today, I would like to challenge each of you to find someone throughout the day today, and ask them for prayer."

Right then and there I knew that God was about to do something huge. So I began to try thinking of someone who had a break at the same time as me, who I could ask. I could think of no one, so when my break came I decided to wander around and see if someone crossed my path. Then, the anxiety attack came. I couldn't breath, couldn't force myself to keep searching, so I went back to my cabin in defeat...

I lay in my bunk and cried. Healing felt so close, yet, out of reach. I couldn't make myself trust that He would heal me, even though He told me over and over that He would. I've rarely come across something I can't do, but I had hit a brick wall. It hurt. It was pure agony, and even now as I write this, I wonder what God was going to do? What did I lose that day?

For the next several weeks, I tried to sort out why I was so incapable of doing this. And the only way I can put it is this; When you've lived with something for so long you can't remember life without it, you can't fathom the mere idea of being healed. You want so desperately for this pain to be taken from you, but you're terrified of believing it will be, only to be crushed.

There's a part of you that knows God does not fail, but the fear remains. It's like preparing to jump off a cliff, and hoping the bungie cord saves your life. You know it's fail-proof, but you still have to trust it will catch you. 

I'm not sure where I'm at right now. I feel like I'm that person who is staring at the cord, then the cliff, knowing I'll be fine, but trying to get the courage to jump. I'm on the edge, though quivering with fear.

So I wanted to tell you guys, believing in miracles is one thing, but taking the leap is another. Don't feel ashamed of the fear, it's real. Go created fear so that when we accomplish the mission, we can look back and realize what a big deal it was. If it were easy, we wouldn't see the importance. Being afraid isn't being unfaithful, I've comitted to leap, I'm just warming up first. 

If ya'll want me to add my personal story to the stories of miracles, pray for me, because I would love to do just that!

Author note:
Hey guys, if you were reading this and thinking 'that is me' then feel free to comment, maybe share your struggle.
Those who were simply inspired or touched, maybe try reading some comments and pray for others.

If y'all are Christians, lemme know cuz I wanna support my fellow believers!