Christian living- dealing with one 'oops' at a time…

Healing

First let me tell you about my own healings. When I was a sophomore in college I began having problems with my blood sugar. I would pass out multiple times during the day and the doctors were stumped as to why. Finally they labeled me hypoglycemic, and by eating every three hours, and avoiding sugar, white flour (simple carbohydrates) and caffeine I was fine. This lasted for eleven years. At the same revival where I was blessed with the gift of tongues my husband, without my knowledge, prayed that I might be healed. (We had just adopted and I was busy, so busy I was not taking as good care of myself as I should and had passed out two weeks before.)

The next day I awoke to a friend on the phone who revealed that her husband had been abusing her. This was not the type of conversation where you said, ‘Excuse me, can I get back to you after I eat?’ So I stayed on the phone until one in the afternoon. (Somehow the children stayed in the vicinity and behaved, another miracle!) When I hung up I noticed the time and thought that I had just made a huge mistake. When my blood sugar was out of whack it usually meant three days of feeling bad before things righted themselves again, and not eating often put it out of whack. But I did not feel bad. I did feel strange though, and then I realized, ‘I’m hungry!’ When you eat every three hours you do not ever feel hungry, so I had not had this sensation in years! I went to get something to eat and, when my husband came home from work told him about what I had felt. He admitted that he had prayed for me. Later, I decided that even if I was healed I would continue to eat as I had since it was ultimately better for me. (I was not trusting and was rationalizing things.) That night I had a dream where God told me that if Peter had not gotten out of the boat he would have never walked on water. I knew this meant that I was to trust Him for my healing, so that week, at a Baptist Camp that did not believe in these things, I ate everything, eclaires, candy bars, you name it. I have not had a problem since.

The Lord healed me before this time as well. I was in a Baptist Church that believed the gifts of the Holy Spirit were of the devil, yet I was experiencing some of them. This created a bit of a problem. I sought out all of the area pastors, Pentecostal and otherwise, and asked many, many questions. I also studied the Bible. I wrote a ten-paged paper on why I believed the gifts were for today and where the flaws in the logic of the arguments against them existed. (I had also been given, and read, many books about why the gifts were not for today. I read no books on why the gifts were for today, apparently Pentecostals don’t write as much…) I was driving home, ready to throw my paper away, having an argument with God. (We argue a lot. He usually wins.) I had just talked to a pastor’s wife who had told me to ‘pray for a sign.’ Now I knew the ‘sign’ she wanted me to have was the gift of tongues. I also knew that my God has a sense of humor, and could just see this gift being bestowed on me in the middle of a quiet Baptist service. (Okay, maybe He wouldn’t do that, but it was a fear of mine.) So I was praying for a sign, but also telling God that I loved my church and did not want to have to leave it. I was also singing to the radio. (I multitask well.) What I didn’t tell you is that I was born tone-deaf, and while I enjoyed signing, those around me did not. Suddenly I heard myself sing. I mean really sing. (Before I always thought I kinda sounded like the radio- not true.) The radio and I did not sound at all alike. I was over-joyed (even though I obviously stunk at singing, but many, many people had driven this fact home for me so I was okay with that.) When I got home I tried singing songs I knew, and realized I can’t! I did not know how they go! (I was bad enough to know I had to be wrong.) I also heard the baby voice of my youngest daughter that day. So incredibly precious. I am no longer tone-deaf, even today, and I know that I know that God’s gifts are for His people still. I sing slightly better, but still make sure my microphone is off when I do. The Lord also has a sense of humor. Not long after that I was asked to join the church Praise Team. I played saxophone by reading music, and was very ‘technically’ correct, but their style required me to play by ear, even though they tried to provide me with the notes. What a stretch! But the Holy Spirit showed up every week and it went extremely well.

Other healings have happened in our lives as well. My youngest daughter prayed for a new-born kitten who had a mass that was bigger than its head. We had tried everything, and the vet said that the only thing we could do for the kitten was to get a shoe-box and a shovel. (Country vets are a different breed. It’s okay, we spoke the same language and knew what he meant.) My daughter prayed and the next day the cat was healed, perfectly fine, not even a scar where the mass stuck out of his head. He lived until he jumped out of an RV when the door accidentally opened, much, much later in life, and may be alive with a new family still. (We did not find him.)

My daughter also broke her leg. While the healing was not full, by the time we arrived at the ER it was not the nasty compound fracture it has been. She also broke her clavicle. I could palpate both ends of the break, and they were not lined up. I prayed and when the ambulance came, there was nothing wrong. I took her to the hospital in my car to have her looked at anyways. This is where I found out that miracles can sometimes make you look a little foolish. She was a perfectly healthy child, in the ER. Thankfully the doctor was my husband who said, ‘You prayed, didn’t you?’ He knows I am sane, and also a physical therapist who taught Gross Anatomy Lab in college. This means I am good with my hands and know where things are. The clavicle (collar bone) was once not where it should be. I knew it, and even showed others that it was so.

There are many more people however whom I have prayed for who were not healed. Some I prayed fervently for, to no avail. Why? I don’t know. But I do know that when you are supposed to pray, and there is a miracle available there is a feeling that you know that you know that this is what you are supposed to do and a certainty that it will happen. The certainty comes from God. It was not something I had by myself. I was prepared to bury the cat and bring the child to the ER each time. But somehow I knew, even though I checked. My son shattered his ankle playing soccer during his senior year and if anyone ever prayer wholeheartedly for something it was him, yet he had to go through the slow recovery and the physical therapy that followed, and missed the end of the season he really wanted to be a part of. I of course prayed too. I can’t tell you how it works, just that God must know what He is doing and why, and in that we have to trust that everything is ultimately for the best. For one son a broken arm kept him out of BMX bike racing in a town where the BMX crowd was bad news. I did not know this when we were preparing to sign him up and consider it a blessing in retrospect. He did not need that kind of pressure.

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