Story by Sarah Scales
My story that I want to share occurred during my teen years. I was having a hard time with everything...friends, boys, school, being different from the other teens as a Christian, etc. I was laying in bed praying one evening - just sharing my heartaches with my heavenly Daddy. I felt two big warm arms go around me in a wonderful, calming, comforting hug! It sounds so simple as I'm writing this, but was so awesome! It meant so much to me at that time and now. God cared for me in my teenage turmoil, which as I look back wasn't anything that unusual for a teenager. And so it helps me remember that He cares for me now as a married woman of 10 years with four kids ages 6 to 1. My challenges & heartaches now ...as a wife, a mom, as I home school my older two kids, as a friend who is lonely after a recent move... aren't that unusual but God is still always here for me and reaches out to comfort me. I wouldn't mind another one of His hugs right now!
For her birthday this year, Erin asked readers to send her their personal tales of why they believe in a supernatural world. A couple times a week, some of those submissions will appear here as a series. All stories appear with the author’s permission. We encourage you to comment on the stories and to continue sharing your own! Stories can be posted on Erin’s Facebook Fan Page or as comments on her Blog. Join the discussion!
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
Why I believe in the Supernatural #8
By Suzanne Schaffer
My spiritual story could also be my entire life story. God wooed my family to Himself when I was a little girl. He has kept me in His hands ever since.
We moved into a house when I was five years old, shortly thereafter I began to see things in my bedroom. Barney Rubble ran up and down my bed, a little red snake wiggled along my bedposts, figures in my doorway watched me while I tried to sleep. My mother didn't know what to do and asked a Christian friend. That friend taught her how to rebuke Satan and plead the blood of Jesus. Those little demons left and quit bothering me.
Twenty years later my parents moved out of that house and sold it to a young single woman. Months later they saw her at a wedding and she asked them if they'd ever had a problem with ghosts. She explained that she'd see a cowboy-type man walking up and down the stairs. When my mother explained to her what it was the woman asked if my mom would come over and get rid of it. My mother explained that it doesn't work that way, that she'd have to be the one to do it and that only would come with a belief in Christ.
We came to learn that demons are territorial. They came back after the covering of Christ was gone. I've always found that interesting. I thank God for His covering and for wooing us to Him. Satan must have known that God had plans for my life. My husband and I have been in full time ministry for 18 years.
For her birthday this year, Erin asked readers to send her their personal tales of why they believe in a supernatural world. A couple times a week, some of those submissions will appear here as a series. All stories appear with the author’s permission. We encourage you to comment on the stories and to continue sharing your own! Stories can be posted on Erin’s Facebook Fan Page or as comments on her Blog. Join the discussion!
My spiritual story could also be my entire life story. God wooed my family to Himself when I was a little girl. He has kept me in His hands ever since.
We moved into a house when I was five years old, shortly thereafter I began to see things in my bedroom. Barney Rubble ran up and down my bed, a little red snake wiggled along my bedposts, figures in my doorway watched me while I tried to sleep. My mother didn't know what to do and asked a Christian friend. That friend taught her how to rebuke Satan and plead the blood of Jesus. Those little demons left and quit bothering me.
Twenty years later my parents moved out of that house and sold it to a young single woman. Months later they saw her at a wedding and she asked them if they'd ever had a problem with ghosts. She explained that she'd see a cowboy-type man walking up and down the stairs. When my mother explained to her what it was the woman asked if my mom would come over and get rid of it. My mother explained that it doesn't work that way, that she'd have to be the one to do it and that only would come with a belief in Christ.
We came to learn that demons are territorial. They came back after the covering of Christ was gone. I've always found that interesting. I thank God for His covering and for wooing us to Him. Satan must have known that God had plans for my life. My husband and I have been in full time ministry for 18 years.
For her birthday this year, Erin asked readers to send her their personal tales of why they believe in a supernatural world. A couple times a week, some of those submissions will appear here as a series. All stories appear with the author’s permission. We encourage you to comment on the stories and to continue sharing your own! Stories can be posted on Erin’s Facebook Fan Page or as comments on her Blog. Join the discussion!
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Why I believe in the Supernatural #7
Amber McCallister
My story:
When I was a young girl, I used to get sick a lot with head colds that would go to a sore throat and eventually into an earache. This cycle happened a lot to the point where I lost hearing in my right ear. My parents thought I was being silly and making it up, but they soon found out that it was true. They took me to a hearing specialist, who told them that what I was telling them was true. One night when one of my earaches had gotten especially bad, my parents were watching the 700 Club on TV that evening. I had already went to bed when Pat Robertson had a work of knowledge that a little girl, who was having a lot of earaches was being touched by God, and my parents claimed that for me. The next my parents knew, I was coming into the living room crying because my ear had "leaked" down my neck and onto my bed sheets. I also said that the pain in my ear was gone, and I felt better. After my parents cleaned me up, I went back to bed.
The next morning, they took me to the ear specialist, and he confirmed what my dad guessed had happened. My eardrum had ruptured that night. Everything that had been building up and was making my ear hurt was now gone. This didn't amaze him in itself. What he said next amazed everyone in the room. He asked my dad if he had given me any of the medication that he had prescribed if my cold and earache had gotten any better. My dad said no because I hadn't gotten any better since he gave us the prescription. The next words out of his mouth were "God is good". He said after my eardrum ruptured, I should have been deaf in that ear, but instead a thin film had grown over my ear drum. The doctor was astounded, and so were my parents.
From this miracle, I am able to hear in my right ear today. My dad has no doubts that this was from God, and he gave Him the glory for this miracle. I praise Him everyday for it. I know what He is capable of doing, and I thank Him for the everyday miracles that I see throughout my life as well.
For her birthday this year, Erin asked readers to send her their personal tales of why they believe in a supernatural world. A couple times a week, some of those submissions will appear here as a series. All stories appear with the author’s permission. We encourage you to comment on the stories and to continue sharing your own! Stories can be posted on Erin’s Facebook Fan Page or as comments on her Blog. Join the discussion!
My story:
When I was a young girl, I used to get sick a lot with head colds that would go to a sore throat and eventually into an earache. This cycle happened a lot to the point where I lost hearing in my right ear. My parents thought I was being silly and making it up, but they soon found out that it was true. They took me to a hearing specialist, who told them that what I was telling them was true. One night when one of my earaches had gotten especially bad, my parents were watching the 700 Club on TV that evening. I had already went to bed when Pat Robertson had a work of knowledge that a little girl, who was having a lot of earaches was being touched by God, and my parents claimed that for me. The next my parents knew, I was coming into the living room crying because my ear had "leaked" down my neck and onto my bed sheets. I also said that the pain in my ear was gone, and I felt better. After my parents cleaned me up, I went back to bed.
The next morning, they took me to the ear specialist, and he confirmed what my dad guessed had happened. My eardrum had ruptured that night. Everything that had been building up and was making my ear hurt was now gone. This didn't amaze him in itself. What he said next amazed everyone in the room. He asked my dad if he had given me any of the medication that he had prescribed if my cold and earache had gotten any better. My dad said no because I hadn't gotten any better since he gave us the prescription. The next words out of his mouth were "God is good". He said after my eardrum ruptured, I should have been deaf in that ear, but instead a thin film had grown over my ear drum. The doctor was astounded, and so were my parents.
From this miracle, I am able to hear in my right ear today. My dad has no doubts that this was from God, and he gave Him the glory for this miracle. I praise Him everyday for it. I know what He is capable of doing, and I thank Him for the everyday miracles that I see throughout my life as well.
For her birthday this year, Erin asked readers to send her their personal tales of why they believe in a supernatural world. A couple times a week, some of those submissions will appear here as a series. All stories appear with the author’s permission. We encourage you to comment on the stories and to continue sharing your own! Stories can be posted on Erin’s Facebook Fan Page or as comments on her Blog. Join the discussion!
Monday, July 19, 2010
Why I believe in the Supernatural #6
Keeping an Ear to the Ceiling
By Mike Duran
I’m an ordained Protestant minister and, for eleven years, served full-time in the pastorate. During that time, I encountered many strange and wonderful things – things that no amount of training, explaining, or theological juggling could prepare me for. Like the time a young couple approached me after church and confessed they had a ghost on their ceiling.
My first reaction – as I think most church-goers’ would be – was one of skepticism. However, there was one thing that kept me from blowing them off: they seemed totally normal and utterly sincere! Which presented a problem. How exactly does one deal with a ghost. . . or, at least, people who supposedly saw one? Especially when they claim to be believers?
After spending enough time with the couple to know they weren’t pranksters, devil worshipers or bloomin’ mad, I went to the house. It sat on a large piece of property in the middle of a grove of gnarled olive trees. A normal house, by all appearance: no black cats or levitating beds. But old. They led me the room in question. It was partly below ground, like a cellar, which probably had to do with the slight temperature drop, and had a single window that, according to them, was one day entirely covered by horseflies. In this room, on several occasions, they had seen an apparition — a woman in a gown hovering on the ceiling, staring down at their bed. I glanced at that ceiling and gripped my Bible as if it were a life preserver, but the mystery girl did not materialize.
What happened? Nothing.
Like a good pastor, I grilled the couple as to whether or not they were doing something that might invite evil: holding séances, consulting Ouija boards, or distilling moonshine. I quizzed them about the history of the house. Had anyone died there or been murdered? When all the answers came back negative, I walked through each room with the couple, quietly praying and asking God to banish whatever entities might be lingering.
For whatever reasons, the couple reported that after that event, the visitations ceased. I’m not sure I can claim any special powers, nor am I any closer to explaining exactly what was occurring. Nevertheless, reports like that have forced me to embrace a more supernatural worldview and keep an ear to the ceiling.
For her birthday this year, Erin asked readers to send her their personal tales of why they believe in a supernatural world. A couple times a week, some of those submissions will appear here as a series. All stories appear with the author’s permission. We encourage you to comment on the stories and to continue sharing your own! Stories can be posted on Erin’s Facebook Fan Page or as comments on her Blog. Join the discussion!
By Mike Duran
I’m an ordained Protestant minister and, for eleven years, served full-time in the pastorate. During that time, I encountered many strange and wonderful things – things that no amount of training, explaining, or theological juggling could prepare me for. Like the time a young couple approached me after church and confessed they had a ghost on their ceiling.
My first reaction – as I think most church-goers’ would be – was one of skepticism. However, there was one thing that kept me from blowing them off: they seemed totally normal and utterly sincere! Which presented a problem. How exactly does one deal with a ghost. . . or, at least, people who supposedly saw one? Especially when they claim to be believers?
After spending enough time with the couple to know they weren’t pranksters, devil worshipers or bloomin’ mad, I went to the house. It sat on a large piece of property in the middle of a grove of gnarled olive trees. A normal house, by all appearance: no black cats or levitating beds. But old. They led me the room in question. It was partly below ground, like a cellar, which probably had to do with the slight temperature drop, and had a single window that, according to them, was one day entirely covered by horseflies. In this room, on several occasions, they had seen an apparition — a woman in a gown hovering on the ceiling, staring down at their bed. I glanced at that ceiling and gripped my Bible as if it were a life preserver, but the mystery girl did not materialize.
What happened? Nothing.
Like a good pastor, I grilled the couple as to whether or not they were doing something that might invite evil: holding séances, consulting Ouija boards, or distilling moonshine. I quizzed them about the history of the house. Had anyone died there or been murdered? When all the answers came back negative, I walked through each room with the couple, quietly praying and asking God to banish whatever entities might be lingering.
For whatever reasons, the couple reported that after that event, the visitations ceased. I’m not sure I can claim any special powers, nor am I any closer to explaining exactly what was occurring. Nevertheless, reports like that have forced me to embrace a more supernatural worldview and keep an ear to the ceiling.
For her birthday this year, Erin asked readers to send her their personal tales of why they believe in a supernatural world. A couple times a week, some of those submissions will appear here as a series. All stories appear with the author’s permission. We encourage you to comment on the stories and to continue sharing your own! Stories can be posted on Erin’s Facebook Fan Page or as comments on her Blog. Join the discussion!
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Why I believe in the Supernatural #5
Story by Connie V. Akpan
I’ve always enjoyed rainy Sundays. After church, my family and I would quickly sit down to one of my moms delicious meals because mom, being old school would prepare most of the meal the day before, or put a roast in the oven right before leaving for church.
On this particular cold Sunday, two of my four sisters and I decided we’d go for a walk in the light rain. Although it had started to clear up, we still enjoyed the thought of splashing puddles on the city sidewalks while Rhea mimicked the lady who sang like a chicken at church. Once the three of us reached the corner of our house, our attention was immediately drawn to the other side of the busy street.
My little sister Terrye, spoke first as she pointed to the poorly dressed man hunched over a wet table at the closed donut shop.
“What’s that man doing over there?” she asked. We found ourselves grabbing her hand and crossing the busy street.
There was a slight hesitation before approaching him. Not out of fear but respect. Once there, Terry screamed,
“He don’t have on any shoes!”
My big sister Rhea suggested we run home, and bring him a blanket and a plate of moms food. “Momma won’t know, cuz she’s at grandma’s.” We did just that. Roast beef and gravy, rice, greens, yams, cornbread and a big piece of chocolate cake. His eyes danced as he ate in silence. Rhea and I said nothing—only smiled as we watched him eat. Terry giggled as if his eyes told her a private joke.
Later, Terry blabbed the whole event to my folks over dessert. My dad stood up shocked. “I saw him too—gave him $10.00.”
My mom, said, “I saw him too—gave him all I had, about five bucks!”
My brother, who had just walked in said, “I just gave him my spare work boots!” We all jumped up and ran to the corner to see what else we could do for the man. He was gone—nowhere to be seen—which was impossible unless he had just been picked up by car. As we walked back, talking about the event, my little sister kept looking up in the sky, laughing.
“What you lookin at, girl?” I asked her. She squinted her eyes and pointed to the bright blue sky.
“The man.”
For her birthday this year, Erin asked readers to send her their personal tales of why they believe in a supernatural world. A couple times a week, some of those submissions will appear here as a series. All stories appear with the author’s permission. We encourage you to comment on the stories and to continue sharing your own! Stories can be posted on Erin’s Facebook Fan Page or as comments on her Blog. Join the discussion!
I’ve always enjoyed rainy Sundays. After church, my family and I would quickly sit down to one of my moms delicious meals because mom, being old school would prepare most of the meal the day before, or put a roast in the oven right before leaving for church.
On this particular cold Sunday, two of my four sisters and I decided we’d go for a walk in the light rain. Although it had started to clear up, we still enjoyed the thought of splashing puddles on the city sidewalks while Rhea mimicked the lady who sang like a chicken at church. Once the three of us reached the corner of our house, our attention was immediately drawn to the other side of the busy street.
My little sister Terrye, spoke first as she pointed to the poorly dressed man hunched over a wet table at the closed donut shop.
“What’s that man doing over there?” she asked. We found ourselves grabbing her hand and crossing the busy street.
There was a slight hesitation before approaching him. Not out of fear but respect. Once there, Terry screamed,
“He don’t have on any shoes!”
My big sister Rhea suggested we run home, and bring him a blanket and a plate of moms food. “Momma won’t know, cuz she’s at grandma’s.” We did just that. Roast beef and gravy, rice, greens, yams, cornbread and a big piece of chocolate cake. His eyes danced as he ate in silence. Rhea and I said nothing—only smiled as we watched him eat. Terry giggled as if his eyes told her a private joke.
Later, Terry blabbed the whole event to my folks over dessert. My dad stood up shocked. “I saw him too—gave him $10.00.”
My mom, said, “I saw him too—gave him all I had, about five bucks!”
My brother, who had just walked in said, “I just gave him my spare work boots!” We all jumped up and ran to the corner to see what else we could do for the man. He was gone—nowhere to be seen—which was impossible unless he had just been picked up by car. As we walked back, talking about the event, my little sister kept looking up in the sky, laughing.
“What you lookin at, girl?” I asked her. She squinted her eyes and pointed to the bright blue sky.
“The man.”
For her birthday this year, Erin asked readers to send her their personal tales of why they believe in a supernatural world. A couple times a week, some of those submissions will appear here as a series. All stories appear with the author’s permission. We encourage you to comment on the stories and to continue sharing your own! Stories can be posted on Erin’s Facebook Fan Page or as comments on her Blog. Join the discussion!
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Why I believe in the Supernatural #4
Story by Colleen Kendzierski
Shortly after my dad passed away, I was laying on my couch when one of my cats jumped up and ran to the corner of the room, where there was a pile of magazines and newspapers I intended to read and dispose of. I was still mourning and hadn’t returned to the everyday routine stuff. Tigger stood facing that corner, ears back, tail stiffened, hissing like no one’s business, then settled down and rolled onto his back.
After my initial alarm, I realized what was happening and laughed, announcing, “Don’t worry, Dad, I’ll get rid of that pile!” That was one of his pet peeves. Whenever he’d come visit, I hid the magazines I hadn’t read so he wouldn’t see them. He’d been sick for months and died at Hospice, so he hadn’t been to visit for a while, and I got lazy.
Tigger loved Dad, too, and would often roll over, allowing him to rub his belly. Apparently, he still allowed that from beyond! Once I knew Dad was still with me, I looked forward to his visits.
Every once in a while, I would smell his favorite tobacco. If I was home, I knew there was no explanation but that he was visiting. One night, I felt my mattress shift like someone sat down and smelled that wonderful scent, which I’d hated when he was alive but had come to enjoy since he’d left us. I had a nice one-sided conversation with him about things going on in my life. The next morning, Mom called to report that the night before, my beloved Aunt Dorothy had died. When I told her about my experience, we felt he had come to take his only living sibling back home with him.
I’ve had visits from Dad in public places, most memorably at a lakefront ice cream shoppe we’d frequented. While deciding what to order, I smelled that tobacco, looked around, and saw no one smoking, even asking the gentleman in front of me if he could smell it. He looked at me like I was insane, giving me an adamant, “NO!” I believe I had my dad’s favorite ice cream that day!
I recently began attending a new church, much different than the Catholic one I was raised in. During last week’s sermon, sure enough, I smelled that tobacco! I believe Dad has accepted my new church and no longer feel guilty about not attending his church!
Shortly after my dad passed away, I was laying on my couch when one of my cats jumped up and ran to the corner of the room, where there was a pile of magazines and newspapers I intended to read and dispose of. I was still mourning and hadn’t returned to the everyday routine stuff. Tigger stood facing that corner, ears back, tail stiffened, hissing like no one’s business, then settled down and rolled onto his back.
After my initial alarm, I realized what was happening and laughed, announcing, “Don’t worry, Dad, I’ll get rid of that pile!” That was one of his pet peeves. Whenever he’d come visit, I hid the magazines I hadn’t read so he wouldn’t see them. He’d been sick for months and died at Hospice, so he hadn’t been to visit for a while, and I got lazy.
Tigger loved Dad, too, and would often roll over, allowing him to rub his belly. Apparently, he still allowed that from beyond! Once I knew Dad was still with me, I looked forward to his visits.
Every once in a while, I would smell his favorite tobacco. If I was home, I knew there was no explanation but that he was visiting. One night, I felt my mattress shift like someone sat down and smelled that wonderful scent, which I’d hated when he was alive but had come to enjoy since he’d left us. I had a nice one-sided conversation with him about things going on in my life. The next morning, Mom called to report that the night before, my beloved Aunt Dorothy had died. When I told her about my experience, we felt he had come to take his only living sibling back home with him.
I’ve had visits from Dad in public places, most memorably at a lakefront ice cream shoppe we’d frequented. While deciding what to order, I smelled that tobacco, looked around, and saw no one smoking, even asking the gentleman in front of me if he could smell it. He looked at me like I was insane, giving me an adamant, “NO!” I believe I had my dad’s favorite ice cream that day!
I recently began attending a new church, much different than the Catholic one I was raised in. During last week’s sermon, sure enough, I smelled that tobacco! I believe Dad has accepted my new church and no longer feel guilty about not attending his church!
Monday, July 5, 2010
Why I believe in the Supernatural #3
Story by Walter WAYN Cannefax
My wife Victoria died 12/12/2006 unexpectedly about 7 hours after our daughter Isabella Sophia was born 12/11/2006. Our 7 year wedding anniversary was to be celebrated 1/29/2007. We had spent the last 5 years of our marriage hoping but not knowing if we would ever become pregnant. The conception and subsequent development of our daughter in the womb was such a wonder and blessing from God. I do not know if anything blurs the lines between spiritual and physical realitiies more than the power of love expressed through sexual union in marriage and the creation of life through the Spirit of God! I had no inkling of the possibility that I would be confronted with the opposite extreme in the dichotomy of life and death that shatters the veil between spirit and flesh. After much loss of blood and other complicating circumstances that only God knows the full mystery and reason - I found myself going from the pure ecstasy and joy of gazing at the face of my newborn daughter to the incomprehensible horror of seeing my wife's eyes void of the beauty and power of her indomitable spirit! In the midst of these incredible events, and many others past and continuing to unfold presently through the wrinkles in time in which I live - I AM NOT ABANDONED!!! I have felt the prescense of Jesus weeping and my wife's love through the Holy Spirit!! I do not know what the future holds and can only live in the moment without answers crying out to God for the strength to trust! My 3 1/2 year old daughter looks at a picture of my wife and asks "Where does mommy live?" I knew the question would come and I pause in a moment of shock before I say the only thing I can honestly say from my heart "She lives with God in heaven." And our daughter smiles and says "That's good."
For her birthday this year, Erin asked readers to send her their personal tales of why they believe in a supernatural world. A couple times a week, some of those submissions will appear here as a series. All stories appear with the author’s permission. We encourage you to comment on the stories and to continue sharing your own! Stories can be posted on Erin’s Facebook Fan Page or as comments on her Blog. Join the discussion!
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Why I believe in the Supernatural #2
Story by Caitlyn Lutz
The past few years God has been taking me on a journey to discover what he can do when his children seek his face and dare to believe that they will do "greater things." (John 14:12) I've seen dozens of healings and hundreds of prophecies, all pointing toward the indisputable fact that God is alive and loves to touch people. I haven't seen a resurrection yet, but I've heard plenty of stories and I pray to see one soon.
One of the most amazing things I saw happened at a multichurch youth gathering a couple of years ago. The speaker, Chad, called for someone with chronic back pain to go forward, so Robin, one of my church's youth leaders, went towards the stage. A few kids, ages nine to twelve, laid hands on her and began praying for healing while Chad continued preaching. He told the story of a woman who had one leg shorter than the other, and immediately after prayer the leg grew out.
When Chad asked Robin a few minutes later how her back was doing, she responded, "It's all healed now...but you know, one of my legs is shorter than the other!" Chad laughed and said to the crowd, "Gather round if you want to see a leg grow out!" I bounded out of my seat and was at the front of the crowd that pressed around Robin. Chad asked her to sit on the edge of the stage and extend both legs. We could clearly see that the right leg was several inches shorter than the left.
Chad's prayer was short and powerful: "In the name of Jesus we command this leg to grow out!" Right in front of my eyes Robin's right leg grew out-several inches longer than the other! We all laughed in delight. Jesus was playing with us! Chad said, "I guess we prayed a little too hard...in the name of Jesus we command this leg to go back!" and it immediately retracted until it was lined up perfectly with the other.
Robin stood up and tested it, than began to cry. For the first time in years she could stand perfectly balanced on both feet.
All glory to God, who loves his children enough to heal them-and play with them!
For her birthday this year, Erin asked readers to send her their personal tales of why they believe in a supernatural world. A couple times a week, some of those submissions will appear here as a series. All stories appear with the author’s permission. We encourage you to comment on the stories and to continue sharing your own! Stories can be posted on Erin’s Facebook Fan Page or as comments on her Blog. Join the discussion!
The past few years God has been taking me on a journey to discover what he can do when his children seek his face and dare to believe that they will do "greater things." (John 14:12) I've seen dozens of healings and hundreds of prophecies, all pointing toward the indisputable fact that God is alive and loves to touch people. I haven't seen a resurrection yet, but I've heard plenty of stories and I pray to see one soon.
One of the most amazing things I saw happened at a multichurch youth gathering a couple of years ago. The speaker, Chad, called for someone with chronic back pain to go forward, so Robin, one of my church's youth leaders, went towards the stage. A few kids, ages nine to twelve, laid hands on her and began praying for healing while Chad continued preaching. He told the story of a woman who had one leg shorter than the other, and immediately after prayer the leg grew out.
When Chad asked Robin a few minutes later how her back was doing, she responded, "It's all healed now...but you know, one of my legs is shorter than the other!" Chad laughed and said to the crowd, "Gather round if you want to see a leg grow out!" I bounded out of my seat and was at the front of the crowd that pressed around Robin. Chad asked her to sit on the edge of the stage and extend both legs. We could clearly see that the right leg was several inches shorter than the left.
Chad's prayer was short and powerful: "In the name of Jesus we command this leg to grow out!" Right in front of my eyes Robin's right leg grew out-several inches longer than the other! We all laughed in delight. Jesus was playing with us! Chad said, "I guess we prayed a little too hard...in the name of Jesus we command this leg to go back!" and it immediately retracted until it was lined up perfectly with the other.
Robin stood up and tested it, than began to cry. For the first time in years she could stand perfectly balanced on both feet.
All glory to God, who loves his children enough to heal them-and play with them!
For her birthday this year, Erin asked readers to send her their personal tales of why they believe in a supernatural world. A couple times a week, some of those submissions will appear here as a series. All stories appear with the author’s permission. We encourage you to comment on the stories and to continue sharing your own! Stories can be posted on Erin’s Facebook Fan Page or as comments on her Blog. Join the discussion!
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