This past weekend, we went to the same meetings where New Daddy and I met seven years ago. It's really hard to believe that it's been seven years.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, I hadn't been doing too well, physically. I don't need to provide much detail about the cystitis I was suffering from. I had known other people who had had the same problem, and goodness, I had no idea how painful it was. The Saturday before the kids left was the worst; gradually I started learning ways to treat it and keep it from escalating. Meanwhile, I had prayed, New Daddy had prayed, even Precious had prayed (along with probably many others), and I was thanking God for healing me.
Sunday morning, we heard a testimony about a Bro. David in Tuscon who had a massive heart attack about a year ago, at the age of 61. Bro. Bob Willard is a close friend of the family, so he was with them throughout the ordeal, and relayed the events to us during his preaching on God's Sovereign Grace. Eighty percent of Bro. David's heart tissue was dead, his main artery leading from the heart was dead, and his heart tissue was the consistency of just that-- tissue paper. He was on a ventilator, and the doctors were sure that he was also brain dead from the severe lack of oxygen that occured during the attack.
Bro. David had (I think) three daughters who constantly rotated at his bedside in the ICU, singing hymns for their daddy. The doctors had said that Bro. David was unresponsive, but Bro. Bob knew that when he went in to pray for the brother, he mumbled "amen" several times; he also seemed to respond to his daughters' singing. The nutritionist actually refused to enter the room, because she declared that there was "Someone" in there.
There were two doctors involved, an Indian Muslim, and a more scientifically-minded doctor. After a few days, the Muslim doctor came to the family with the grievance counselor to try to convince the family to let go of their daddy and husband. Bro. David's wife asked Bro. Bob what he would do. Bro. Bob said that he couldn't tell them what to do, but if it were his loved one, he would wait just a little longer to see what the doctors could do, and to give God a little more time to work. The family refused to let go just yet.
The doctor, moved by the daughters' love for their daddy, their devotion at his bedside, and their refusal to let go, went back to the room where Bro. David lay. What the doctor had not told the family was that, in truth, the machines had quit twenty-three minutes ago. He was trying to get the family to let go so that he could tell them that Bro. David was already gone. The doctor was so grieved by the family's love that he said, "God, please don't make me have to go back to those girls and tell them that their daddy is dead."
As he finished saying these words, Bro. David's machines snapped back on. The more scientific doctor started ordering the nurses to send a technician to check the machines. The nurses, however, couldn't move. EVERY vital stat on EVERY patient in the ICU jumped to normal, just as Bro. David's restarted.
The brother is alive and well today. When he came to, he asked the nurses where his scar was. They told him that they didn't do anything for him. (How many times would you hear that in a hospital?) It has been written up as a special case, and the Muslim doctor has visited the family several times to find out more about what they believe.
In church Sunday, when Bro. Bob told us about the vital stats normalizing throughout the whole ICU, the Holy Spirit fell in a powerful sweep across the whole congregation. People were drunk on the Spirit, and a brother prophesied/ exhorted. It was Wonderful. I live for meetings like that.
Since that service, I have had no symptoms, at all, of cystitis. I believe that when the Spirit fell, I was completely healed in an instant. I've been thanking the Lord ever since I realized that it was absolutely gone. He is so good to us!
As I mentioned in an earlier post, I hadn't been doing too well, physically. I don't need to provide much detail about the cystitis I was suffering from. I had known other people who had had the same problem, and goodness, I had no idea how painful it was. The Saturday before the kids left was the worst; gradually I started learning ways to treat it and keep it from escalating. Meanwhile, I had prayed, New Daddy had prayed, even Precious had prayed (along with probably many others), and I was thanking God for healing me.
Sunday morning, we heard a testimony about a Bro. David in Tuscon who had a massive heart attack about a year ago, at the age of 61. Bro. Bob Willard is a close friend of the family, so he was with them throughout the ordeal, and relayed the events to us during his preaching on God's Sovereign Grace. Eighty percent of Bro. David's heart tissue was dead, his main artery leading from the heart was dead, and his heart tissue was the consistency of just that-- tissue paper. He was on a ventilator, and the doctors were sure that he was also brain dead from the severe lack of oxygen that occured during the attack.
Bro. David had (I think) three daughters who constantly rotated at his bedside in the ICU, singing hymns for their daddy. The doctors had said that Bro. David was unresponsive, but Bro. Bob knew that when he went in to pray for the brother, he mumbled "amen" several times; he also seemed to respond to his daughters' singing. The nutritionist actually refused to enter the room, because she declared that there was "Someone" in there.
There were two doctors involved, an Indian Muslim, and a more scientifically-minded doctor. After a few days, the Muslim doctor came to the family with the grievance counselor to try to convince the family to let go of their daddy and husband. Bro. David's wife asked Bro. Bob what he would do. Bro. Bob said that he couldn't tell them what to do, but if it were his loved one, he would wait just a little longer to see what the doctors could do, and to give God a little more time to work. The family refused to let go just yet.
The doctor, moved by the daughters' love for their daddy, their devotion at his bedside, and their refusal to let go, went back to the room where Bro. David lay. What the doctor had not told the family was that, in truth, the machines had quit twenty-three minutes ago. He was trying to get the family to let go so that he could tell them that Bro. David was already gone. The doctor was so grieved by the family's love that he said, "God, please don't make me have to go back to those girls and tell them that their daddy is dead."
As he finished saying these words, Bro. David's machines snapped back on. The more scientific doctor started ordering the nurses to send a technician to check the machines. The nurses, however, couldn't move. EVERY vital stat on EVERY patient in the ICU jumped to normal, just as Bro. David's restarted.
The brother is alive and well today. When he came to, he asked the nurses where his scar was. They told him that they didn't do anything for him. (How many times would you hear that in a hospital?) It has been written up as a special case, and the Muslim doctor has visited the family several times to find out more about what they believe.
In church Sunday, when Bro. Bob told us about the vital stats normalizing throughout the whole ICU, the Holy Spirit fell in a powerful sweep across the whole congregation. People were drunk on the Spirit, and a brother prophesied/ exhorted. It was Wonderful. I live for meetings like that.
Since that service, I have had no symptoms, at all, of cystitis. I believe that when the Spirit fell, I was completely healed in an instant. I've been thanking the Lord ever since I realized that it was absolutely gone. He is so good to us!
Comments
i love you!
jennifer
He's so creative.
I love Him!