by: Cris Corzine-McCloskey
Bill Johnson said, sometimes we pray for a miracle the size of a mighty oak and God hands us an acorn. In frustration, we often reject the acorn. After all, we wanted a miracle; we didn’t want the seed. But we fail to realize is there is immense power held in that acorn.
I was a marriage counselor before I was married. As a marriage counselor, I thought I knew a lot and felt prepared to be a good wife. I prayed hard for a mighty oak of a marriage. I met my husband, and after a whirlwind courtship, we said: “I do.”
Not long after, I realized I didn’t have a mighty oak of a marriage, I had an acorn marriage. We planted it with prayer, and more than once watered it with tears. I quickly discovered that being a good wife and having a good marriage was not as easy as I thought, which was very humbling. Over time our acorn became a tender twig with frail roots. At that stage, the storms of marriage were terrifying, as each one threatened to uproot our tiny tree. This was a difficult time for us both, and I questioned if I had made a mistake. More prayers and tears went in, and its fragile roots gained strength.
We are more than a few years in, and I am pleased to announce we now have a lovely shade tree of a marriage. It’s still not a mighty oak, but it is getting there. Its roots are much stronger, and storms aren’t as scary. We are both marveling at our little oak tree of a marriage, and we do not take it for granted. We treasure it because we spent enough time with our acorn to know we have something of value. We also know God has been our Gardner, which makes it our own miracle.
In retrospect, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Not only am I immensely enjoying this season of our marriage, but I have also grown in ways I couldn’t have otherwise, as a believer, and as a marriage counselor. It’s made me more appreciative of my husband and hopefully a better wife. I’m not naive enough to think there aren’t hard times ahead, but I’m no longer afraid.
That, my friends, is the power of an acorn when the Master Gardner anoints it. He hands us a seed, and we cultivate it with Him. Not only does He give us our miracle out of the grain, but He changes us in the process. We develop roots that grow deep into Him, and we become what the Bible calls, “Oaks of Righteousness, a display of His splendor.” We learn to weather storms, and we become a source of life and shade for others.
Not everyone makes it to that stage, though. I almost didn’t. We have free will. We can scoff at the acorn and shake our fist at God, lamenting His lack of care for us. However, acorns are good for us. We live in an age of instant gratification. We want it all, and we want it now. Acorns defy that. As Steven Furtick says, “Most of us like the idea of God changing our circumstances more than we like the idea of God changing us.” God changes us with acorns.
If you have been praying for mighty oak miracles, look around. You might find an acorn. They present themselves like glimmers of hope in what feels like a hopeless situation. Grab hold of that acorn, praise your Father for it, and plant it with faith. There is a strong chance God, who sees the big picture, feels the real miracle needed in your situation is a change in you. He wants to turn you into a Mighty Oak of Righteousness. That, my friend, is the power held in your acorn.