The space between prayer and a miracle can be one of the most difficult paths to navigate. We long to hold fast in prayer, believing that, inevitably, the answer will come. Yet, when the tides feel too strong, too relentless for our feeble arms, and the miracle we hope for seems too far away, weariness settles in, and our hearts grow faint.

The Bible is clear—God’s ways are not our ways. So often, when the prayers we lift seem to clash with His ultimate plan—a plan that far surpasses our understanding—we can feel as though He has abandoned us. Hope can feel defeated. And sometimes, like Jenny, we find ourselves staring into the face of death as time runs out.

Just a week ago, Jenny called me after every door seemed to close. It felt like her final days. We could hardly find the words to pray. I imagine it was what Job felt in the depths of his grief when God asked him who He was—and Job had no response. It is that hard place, the silence we sit in, between our prayers and the miracle we so desperately need.

As we prayed, I could barely get the words out, tearfully pleading for God to move. When we hung up, I kept weeping, pouring out to God the things too heavy for me to understand. Jenny lay in a hospital bed, the same place where my sister’s healing from cancer had not come this side of heaven. Only God could see the pages ahead in this story.

And then, in complete surrender, the miracle came.

A miracle only God could write—in a moment that felt too heavy to bear. As Jenny prepared her final goodbye on paper, the doctor walked in.

“Jenny, we have a liver for you.”

Not just any liver, but the healthiest, most perfect match. Better than all the others that had failed to come through. As they prepped her for surgery, she could hardly believe it was true.

When she woke up, she instantly felt relief from the years of pain that had kept her bound to a bed. Just fifty hours post-surgery, we sat together in disbelief—or maybe speechless is the better word. We wept before the Lord.

“God, Your way was better. So much better.”

Color returned to her face. Hope was fully restored to her heart. The fullness of life filled the room.

Like Job, we had heard of God’s goodness. But today—we have seen it.

This is the wisdom that suffering brings.

In the good, God is heard.

But in our pain—God is seen.

Updates are difficult for Jenny in the state she’s in. We decided to film a little update for you all, and hopefully this will align everybody in how to keep supporting and praying for her please check out our social media platforms to view the video. Please take the time to watch this update and please, please keep praying for her miracle Liver. Happy New Year!