Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Believing in Miracles: Part II; Live and in Color

Crazy "coincidence." I have recently spent 20 or so hours formally studying miracles, I post part one of results, and then last night happened. See, I'm already rearranging my outline :).

I was working at my Big Box store, and a frustrated Dad and son came in needing wall patch repair supplies and paint. To determine the patch size, he showed me pictures on his phone of the holes, and, having done this for three years, I looked up at him and asked what the heck happened. His 11 year old boy, standing a few feet away, looking like any other 11 year old, apparently had kicked multiple holes in the walls, with great force. I asked, "What's going on?" While I gathered the appropriate supplies, the Dad tells me about a year ago the son started exhibiting strange and aggressive behavior, resulting in costly repairs in their home and in the community.  Dad was at his wits' end, saying, "I can't do this anymore."

Not even knowing if they were Christians, I told him that it doesn't have to be this way, and that his boy can be healed.  I asked if his church elders had prayed for the boy. Not only has his church prayed, but he drove the boy to some fancy schmancy Christian who has a healing ministry (you know me, I didn't recognize the name, but apparently he is BIG in healing circles). No deliverance. They've taken him to doctors, who can't decide if it's bi-polar, or a myriad of other issues, and medicines aren't relieving the symptoms.

I "saw" in the boy's eyes that something was wrong with him, but I "saw" that his heart was good, and I asked God what the issue was while I was mixing their paint. I didn't get a clear response, but I did believe that the boy could be healed (or, delivered) and that God wanted me to pray for him. There were other customers milling about, but obedience to God always makes a way. Just at that time, the Dad received a phone call and walked away to chat. I leaned across the counter, and asked the boy how he felt. He said, "I feel like crap." I asked him if he wanted to be different, and would he like me to pray - twice. Both times he responded, "Yes." I held his hand, and prayed a short simple prayer. Then I put my hand on his head and asked God to be with him all the days of his life. My heart was aching for the pain he lived with, and a few tears spilled out, but I had to keep it together so I could be professional for other customers. Interestingly, no other person approached the desk while I prayed.

As they were leaving, the Dad thanked me for praying for his boy, and I said, "No problem, he has a good heart." The healing may be just as much for Dad as for the son, as I suspect he is contemplating ways of escape. Nonetheless, if they come back with a good report, I shall let you know. I believe God heard and answered my prayer, but I've always been concerned about others attributing a healing or answer to prayer to me. I never want people to be confused about who the real healer is - God through Christ. Years ago I prayed that God would "tag" these situations. You know how a shirt has a tag sewn into the back of the neck, indicating who made the shirt? I want God to tag these answers to prayer, "Made by God through Christ." When I was younger, I read a book entitled, "God's Generals," which, by the way is fantastic. Story after story reveals the pitfalls of putting God's gifts into earthen vessels. I don't want to be a casualty, and while many of my prayers have been answered, I've enjoyed anonymity. For a men-pleaser, who battles with pride, you understand the potential for deception. I continue to repent anytime I notice these devils showing up, because I never want to disappoint my Father.

My first experience with praying for healing was 23 years ago. I was at McDonalds with my 2 year old and infant. They had just installed the swivel-type of chairs, prior to that they were stationary. My daughter stood on the chair, propped her hands on the table, and twisted back and forth. I firmly told her to sit properly because she was going to fall. She couldn't resist one more twist, and fell to the ground.  I heard a "crack" sound as her head hit the tile. Immediately a large, egg-like purple bump formed. I was so scared. Their Dad was out of town, we didn't have health insurance, and I imagined the worst possible head trauma problems. I sat her on my lap, and put my hand over the egg-bump. I prayed that God would heal her head. It was amazing, the bump slowly receded, until her forehead was smooth, leaving only a slight bruise mark. She was repentant (mostly because she saw her Mommy so distressed), and continued on as if nothing had happened.

I plan to share stories at the end of the Miracle Series, being on the receiving end, but I wanted to share this one while it was fresh. Partly, as a testimony to God, but also, I have a tendency to forget the wonderful things that God has done (that pesky PTSD that I was diagnosed with five years ago), and I have decided to start recording them - stones of remembrance. Also, I am hoping that the family will come back and let me know what changes their son has exhibited, which I will then pass on to you as an encouragement!

In the past, I would have prayed silently for the boy. But, I told God that I wanted to work for Him, and if it means while I'm mixing paint - so be it. We'll see if any of the customers complain to the manager, I live in an area that has both staunch patriotic believers and long-time atheistic people.

Back to work....


  1. Sounds like you're right where the action is. Hopefully there will be a follow-up report from the dad. I think it would boost our faith as much as yours. OK, maybe not as much, but a lot, in any case...


  2. Dave,

    Thanks for tuning in, and no - haven't seen them yet, but if I do, I will blog ASAP!