Many years ago I heard from a little old lady at church that, according to her nephew, you could throw a raw egg over your house on Good Friday and it would not break. Apparently he tried it but it didn't work.
I was into the whole faith-that-can-move-mountains thing (Matt. 17:20). I'd even tried pointing at a mountain outside my window and commanding it to move. Though I was never sure where to move it, so I wasn't surprised that it didn't work. But an egg? That's much more manageable.
I had to wait almost a full year for Good Friday to come around again. Actually, it turned out I had to wait TWO years because we ended up being in a hotel in Oklahoma on a business trip turned vacation.When Good Friday finally rolled around again I was nervously excited to give this egg thing a try.
I wasn't sure I could actually get the egg over the house, so I decided to practice the toss with a tennis ball first. Being the practical girl that I am, I didn't want to waste an egg or make a mess.
I couldn't get it over.
So I begged my older sister (who got the ball over on her first try) to do it.
She was full of doubt. I tried to coach her into mountain-moving faith. When I couldn't, I decided my faith would be strong enough for both of us.
She threw it.
It cracked.
So did my heart.
After a few hours of being depressed and angry at God for not showing up, I resolved to try again next year. This time without the practice toss. If faith could keep an egg from cracking, certainly faith could get the egg over the house too!
So I waited for ANOTHER Good Friday.
I didn't say anything as I selected an egg from the fridge. It was greenish, longer, and skinnier than the brown and white ones around it. It looked special.
"What are you doing, Rachel?!" my little brothers asked.
I replied by smiling and marching outside. They followed.
Please God, please don't let it crack. I know you can do that. I believe you will. Just this once. For me. Please.
I hurled the egg with all my might.
I let my brothers run ahead as I walked with as much confidence as shaky legs allow. I'm not sure I breathed until I saw the egg and I know I didn't breathe after I saw it.
IT.
DIDN'T.
BREAK.
It landed on the ground - the hard, solid ground - but didn't break.
I was elated.
I have enough faith and God exists.
This story is completely true. Ask my mom.
She told me to always remember that Good Friday - especially when I have doubts about God or my faith.
I was 13 the year the egg didn't break (exactly 10 years ago).
I looked it up in my prayer journal. It was a short entry:
"Dear God, I don't have much time to write but I wanted to say 'Thanks for my miracle (the egg). I know you did that. Help me to always remember that.'"
Recently I've had several questions bothering me in the back of my mind.
I believe in God. But I don't always know what I believe about Him.
Does He really interact with the world? Does praying really accomplish anything?
The same things happen for people who don't believe in God, so what difference does it make?
I'm thankful that although I have unanswered questions and things I don't understand, I have stories like this to fall back on.
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