God’s
categories:
Healing
At straight up 3 p.m. I wake up. I look over and smile. My mom says, “hi!” I respond, saying, “hi.” They’re concerned about brain damage because I’ve lost so much blood. “Where are you?” she asks. Looking at the minister I respond, “Church.” So they asked me who I knew at church, and I named my best friend from church.
The minister jumps up and down screaming, “PRAISE GOD!!! PRAISE GOD!!” My mother is crying and laughing in joy. The doctors come in expecting the worst, and are shocked by what they find. They pull the sheets back quickly and ask me to kick my legs for my mommy. I’m able to. They run a scope in me ultimately to determine where the bleeding came from and what was going on. They’re never to find anything. Not even a place where I had healed.
The doctors ask my parents to meet with them in a conference room. They tell my parents they didn’t do this. That they were just trying to let me die with some dignity, surrounded by family. That there was nothing they could do for someone who had lost so much blood.
It is a tremendous burden to live with this story. It’s beautiful and awe-inspiring, and I am GREATLY appreciative of it. Not just because He preserved my life...but because He gave me a sense of appreciation for life from the earliest times I can remember this story being told to me. But it is difficult to consider if you’ve lived to being somehow worthy of God’s grace. Because we never do. But He remains who He is, in spite of us. How can I possibly say thank you enough?
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Dave J.
What a great testimony. I’m usually skeptical of such ‘miracle’ stories, but not this one.
I understand your burden, and that of your parents, but can you imagine the doctors? Maybe it was really a lesson for them, from God? I am sure they must continually wonder about what happened.