ER Healing

We brought a frequent flier to the emergency room. Not long ago, my partner transported him 3 times in one day. This time he called 911 for a headache.

As my partner steered him to the waiting room, I noticed a receptionist at the ER desk with her arm in a sling. My partner gave report on our patient. I pulled up a chair and began asking about the injured arm.

She fell in the shower, but didn't have an x-ray yet because she was afraid to hear something would be broken and that would require surgery. She was afraid.

I asked if she wanted to be healed.

She said, "I'm at work, I can't do something like that that now."

I told her I'd developed a quiet method of healing that wouldn't draw attention. No one would know about it.

She agreed.

I placed my hand on her elbow, and very quietly, with my head down, commanded the pain and inflammation to leave and the spirit of pain to go and never return. I asked if she felt anything.

Her: "Tingling"

Me: "You're being healed."

Her: "Are you serious?'

Me: "Yup."

I repeated the process one more time and asked what she felt. She described a sensation of warmth inside her arm, which was strange since she had an ice pack inside the sling.

"That's the power of God."

We talked for a few more minutes. I explained that the pain might return and told her to stand on her healing and if any pain returned to command it to leave.

An hour later we were at another hospital, transferring a man to a nursing home. His step -daughter was attending to him. She was in a wheelchair. I had to ask....

Healing in the emergency room is best done quietly. People were coming and going. No one was paying attention to us. I prefer to keep it that way. Don't draw attention to yourself. I asked why she was in the wheelchair.

"Because my ex-husband has an anger management problem and something he did gave me a spinal cord injury. "

I didn't ask for details. I could see she didn't want to talk about it. I knelt down and talked with her at eye level. I told her about the healing we just witnessed at the other hospital. I asked if she wanted to be healed.

She hesitated. "I have people praying for me, but I have a lot of problems with my right foot. I still can't bend it." She lifted up her right leg and displayed her limp foot and how she couldn't move it.

I told her I see miracles almost every day. She agreed to let my pray. I placed my hand on one of her legs and commanded her spinal cord to be healed and her legs and feet to be strengthened. I asked if she felt anything.

Her: "Tingling...mostly in my right leg."

Me: "You're being healed."

Her: "Really?"

Me: "Really, really."

I prayed over her one more time and told her she was on her way to being healed. I gave her some discharge instructions on how to maintain it over the long haul. She thanked me and watched as we loaded her father in law on the gurney.

As we left, I took her hands in mine one more time and told her, "You are healed. God is faithful."

Hope and Healing in Peds Oncology

This story was submitted by Michael C. King

It was at the end of a 12-hour shift in early December and I had already reported off to the next CNA. I went into a patient’s room to empty the urine in their bathroom, the last task I would perform that night. I was working on a pediatric oncology floor, this patient was a four year old girl, and her mother and aunt were present.

As was coming out of the bathroom, the mother was on her way out the door and asked the aunt “if she needed the Tylenol,” and expressed that she
had already taken some.

I’m always looking for excuses to pray for people, so I asked them if they were alright. "Oh, it’s just sleeping in the hospital. You know, chairs and that daybed. They give us such pain in our necks and we’ve had headaches all day.”

“Do you mind if I pray for you?” They didn’t mind. I prayed for the mother first, placing my hand on her shoulder, and when I commanded the pain to go, I snapped my fingers. The moment I did that, heat shot into her neck, and the pain lessened. Since God was doing something, I just let God do what he was doing, and prayed for the aunt.

At Holy Spirit’s leading, I commanded a spirit off of her, and the pain lessened slightly. Both women felt a lessening of pain, but it was not all gone. The mother was getting all freaked at this point, and we started talking.

I explained that sometimes people get healed instantly, and sometimes it takes a couple rounds of prayer. They had a couple other questions, which I answered as best as I could, regarding God and healing and such. It turns out they were believers, but had never encountered God as Healer. I told them that Jesus didn’t die so we could get healed halfway, and prayed for them until the pain left entirely (which only took a minute or two).

The mother then asked me, sort of hesitantly, “Do you think it would work for her?” pointing to her daughter lying in the hospital bed.

“Certainly!” I replied. The daughter was upset, verbally told us that she didn’t want prayer, and was adamant about it. Had it been another time and place, I would have started praying for her by commanding spirits to be quiet and to come out of her (as that was, in my opinion, the reason she was so resistant) but it was neither an appropriate time nor place, so I skipped it, although I REALLY wanted to.

I had the mother and aunt lay their hands on her, and had them repeat after me a really simple prayer. I said something like “Jesus died so that we could be healed, so I command healing into this body and cancer to go in Jesus’ name.” We waited for a few moments afterwards, and I then said “That’s how you do that” and encouraged them to continue to pray for her in such a fashion until she was better.
Normally I would have the daughter test out the injury, but since it required a blood test to determine if the cancer was gone, that would have to happen at another time. I hugged them and then left.

While we had been talking, there was one other thing that God was doing, which I had never experienced before. The mother said to me at two different points during that ten minutes we were talking and praying that she felt something happening inside her while she was listening to me talk. I didn’t know what it was at the time, but I figured it out later. While I was talking, God was depositing HOPE into the mother to believe that God could heal her daughter. He might even have been depositing faith, but I KNOW she was receiving an impartation of hope. I believe this was what prompted her to ask if healing prayer would work for her daughter.
When I left, I was thrilled that the women got healed, but what touched me most deeply was the virtue God deposited in her. What had only ten minutes before been a very dark and painful situation became just a little less painful and a ray of hope had just cracked through the clouds. And the whole time, I was still getting paid to do it. ^_^

Healing Ministry Flows Through Relationships

I've been asked, "Exactly how do you walk up to a complete stranger in a store and heal them?"

Every person we'll ever do anything with is a stranger to us at one time. Everything we do from the time we meet them is either building or destroying a relationship. If we intend to heal a stranger, at minimum we should probably learn their name. Personally I think we ought to go much further, but it's a start.

You could stand on a sidewalk with a loudspeaker announcing your desire to heal people and command them to be healed from ten feet away. You might even heal some people. I don't know if it would qualify as effective ministry.

It's difficult to receive ministry from a stranger. Most of us want to know something about the one representing God before we give them our time and our ear. When a stranger speaks at a church they're introduced by someone who knows them and their expertise or credentials are presented. It's part of our culture.

A few years ago I met a man whose writing inspired me. I liked the stuff he wrote so much that I began bugging him by e-mail. He was very gracious; patiently answering some of my questions and encouraging me to find the rest of the answers on my own.

One day I wrote something that provoked him. I received an unexpected reply that has provoked me ever since.

This was his reply:

"Some time ago, I had this image of a network of islands in a vast sea, connected by a variety of bridges. The islands are people, and the bridges are the relationships. Some of the islands have many bridges, some just a few, and a few islands have no bridges at all. And the bridges are of all varieties. There are some rickety footbridges, some rope bridges or narrow wooden bridges. Some are just a fallen log. Others are well-made stone bridges, and there are a few modern steel or concrete bridges.


“No man is an island,” or so John Donne says. Nobody is completely self-sufficient. I may produce quite a lot of what I need on my island, but there are some things that I’ll need from others. Besides, if I get by with only what I can make myself, then I subject myself to a very primitive lifestyle: no cars, no cell-phones, no laptops or toilet paper: none of these can be produced without heavy industry.

If I want coffee, I can trade some of the things I make on my island (let’s imagine I’m a carpenter) with someone else for their coffee, but only if I have a bridge. But not just any bridge. I need to have a bridge that I can carry my wood furniture over: the rope bridge won’t do. In fact, the fallen log is out, and many of the narrow wooden bridges. The guy with the coffee can make use of most of the bridges, but my work requires a bigger bridge. The stonemason on the next island over needs really strong bridges.

I heard Rick Joyner say one time that when God sends him somewhere to minister, he’s always interested to see how they receive him. If they recognize him as a pastor or ministry leader, then there’s a certain amount of ministry he can bring. If they receive him as an author and a teacher, then there’s more he can bring. If they can accept him as a prophet, still more, and if they welcome him as an apostle, then he can bring the entire arsenal for them.

Rick is looking to see what kind of bridge exists between himself and the people he’s ministering to. If it’s a smaller bridge, built with less trust or less understanding of the things of God, then he’s able to bring less ministry over the bridge, perhaps just the ministry of a pastor. After a number of visits, perhaps the bridge is strong enough to support apostolic ministry.

If I don’t have any relationship with you at all, then it will be very difficult for me to minister to you, to strengthen you, encourage you, to equip you for the assignments that God has given you. Likewise, it’s nearly impossible for me to receive any strength or encouragement from you. There are people I know professionally; most of them don’t have a bridge with me that would support a prophetic word or a revelation from scripture.

When I speak with a group of people, the first thing on my agenda is to build relationship with them. I only have a few minutes with them, maybe an hour, so we have to work fast; I do that work with jokes, stories, illustrations. Fortunately, I have a teaching gift from God and the Holy Spirit loves to inhabit them: He makes the job much easier and faster, but it still takes time, and if I hope to carry something of value to them, I must have a bridge to do it!

Even Jesus saved his heavy revelation for the Last Supper, after Judas had left to collect his 30 pieces of silver. Only there among his eleven most trusted friends did he share his most significant secrets. Those were the only relationships that were able to bear it.

For a more scriptural example, let’s look at 1 Corinthians 3: It’s my opinion that this is essentially what Paul is saying: “Your end of the bridge isn’t substantial enough for this ministry.” They were acting like “mere men” which prevented him from teaching them weightier subjects. Same with Hebrews 5. The seven sons of Sceva may be an example of the bridge of relationship breaking because they tried to carry too much weight over it, but Stephen certainly is such an example.

Recently, I needed to bring a very strong word of correction to a brother in Christ. I actually had the word two years earlier, but the word was heavy enough that our relationship couldn’t support it. We built a relationship over those years, and eventually he invited me to speak into his life on that subject, and when I did, our relationship supported the weight of the word: he made the needed changes in his life (it took a few years), and we’re still friends. Now we both speak into each others’ lives.

Now the question is whether you and I have enough of a relationship to support this much meat? It’s not really a lot of weight, but then, we don’t have a lot of experience relating to each other either. "
[End of e-mail]

I thought about his words for a long time.

I thought about people in the church who can't receive correction from leaders, because they've never established a relationship strong enough to support a word of correction. They go from one church to another.

I thought about the sidewalk evangelist who brazenly walks through town condemning people to hell, without every stopping to ask their name or demonstrate one act of compassion.

I think about street healers who go around healing injured people just to gather testimonies to share with anyone who will listen....and leave without anything else being said.

I came to this conclusion:

Ministry Flows Through Relationships

We must learn how to develop bridges of relationship with people if we hope to ministering healing (or anything else) to them. Even if it's a small bridge, they must have a reason to trust us. Healing may just be the beginning of their life in the kingdom. After healing or deliverance they'll need to be discipled. Who does that? It might be us if we have the relationship to support it. We need an approach to ministry that's relational. What kind of model do I use?

I look at Jesus when I think about how we should minister. He healed people in a variety of ways. Sometimes the sick came to him. He didn't need to establish who he was in those cases. The sick knew he had the power to heal. All he did was release the healing to them. But we're discussing a different type of ministry here. One in which the person we want to minister to knows nothing about us. In those cases we need to do something to give them a reason to let us into their world.

My favorite encounter is where Jesus met the woman at the well of Samaria in John 4. Here's a brief overview of their encounter:

• Jesus departs from Judea and heads toward Galilee, passing through Samaria. (verses 3-4)
• He meets a woman at the well and asks for a drink (verse 7)
• She is offended at his request (verse 9)
• They discuss the nature of water. (verses 10-15)
• Jesus gives her a prophetic word about her current boyfriend and previous husbands (verses 17-18)
• She recognizes him as a prophet (verse 19)
• They discuss religious practices (verses 20-24)
• She brings up the subject of the Messiah (verse 24)
• He reveals that he is the Messiah (verse 25)

Jesus took a perfect stranger and in a few minutes of conversation (with the help of some divine revelation) convinced her he was the Messiah. We don't need to convince anyone we're the Messiah, our task is much easier. We need to convince them that we care enough about them to have God bless them with his healing power.

My suggestion is simple. Take a few minutes to get to know the person you want to heal. If they have an obvious injury ask how it happened. Ask about the weather or their children. Ask them about anything you might have in common with them. If you see sadness ask what it's about. If you sense fear ask that they're afraid of. Listen to what they say and respond (out of compassion) if it seems appropriate.

Take time to establish a bridge of trust before attempting to minister to someone. People don't care how much you know until they know how much you care.

Original Post: "Ministry Flows Through Relationships":

Todd White In New York - Part 2

Learn from Todd White as he demonstrates the power and love of God on the streets of New York.

Grocery Store Healing

I went with my daughter to the grocery store. I'm not deliberately trying to influence her in the direction of healing. It just sorta....happens.

Leaving the store, I noticed a middle-aged woman limping toward the parking lot.

I almost heard the Holy Spirit say, " Go get her."

I approached, gave her my best smile and asked why she was limping.

She shot me a grin and asked why it was any of my business.

I presented my credentials:

I'm a paramedic. I work in Tacoma. I'm not crazy and I'm not a stalker. I just like to see people blessed by the healing power of God. You can ask my lovely daughter....honest, lady!

We talked for about ten minutes. She asked every question under the sun. I gave every decent answer I could think of. She grilled my daughter again about me.

I said, "look, why don't we walk to your car and talk about it on the way. (We were creating a scene in the entrance to the store)

She limped pathetically toward her car. She let me push the shopping cart.

As she walked I could see it was her knee. She couldn't bend it. I asked what was wrong. She had a torn meniscus in her left knee and needed surgery which she couldn't afford. She was terrified about what would happen if she couldn't work because of the injury.

I said, "May I please try to get your knee healed? What will it hurt if I just try?"

She reluctantly agreed.

I placed my hand on her knee and commanded the pain to leave in the name of Jesus. I commanded the spirit of pain to leave and never come back.

I asked how she felt. She said it was a little better. I commanded it to be healed one more time and asked how it felt. All the pain was gone.

She looked at me and said, "Are you for real?"

I said, "Jesus is more real that you know and he's the one who healed you. He loves you and he has a great plan for your future." I asked if she had any other conditions I could pray for. She let me pray for back pain and high blood pressure. I gave her a card to the website and we talked for a while about the goodness of God. She gave me a hug and we left her with with a huge smile on her face.

My daughter was grinning from ear to ear as we walked to the car. I love showing her how our Father loves His kids.

Jesus is the reason for the season. Have a wonderful Christmas.

Cerebral Palsy Progressive Healing

This is the testimony of a man whose son is in the process of being healed of cerebral palsy. This is a good example of how a progressive healing occurs. It may take days, weeks, months or even years. The key is to be persistent and never give up.

The Waiting List

What can you do when surgery to repair a structural problem in your spine fails?

Here's one solution:

On recent call, we took an elderly man home from the hospital. He had terminal metastatic cancer of the spine that had spread to multiple organs. When we got to his home we were met by his family. His daughter wanted to help us lift him into bed but couldn’t. She had a severe back injury. My partner and I moved him over with ease then I asked his daughter about her back injury.

She sustained a crushed vertebrae in a car accident years ago. Typically, the damaged bone is repaired surgically with bone grafts. Metal plates or rods are attached to stabilize it further. Unfortunately, many patients suffer severe pain after the procedure. This was one of those cases.

She has severe pain every day. She's on the waiting list for a vertebral implant; a device that replaces the damaged bone. It's used with a bone graft to fuse the vertebrae together.


I asked if she wanted to be healed. She asked what I had planned and if it would hurt. She wasn't very trusting, but I decided to have fun with her.
I told her I wanted to show her instead of tell her.
She asked what I was going to do.
I asked her to trust me.
She wanted to know if it would hurt. I promised not to hurt her and asked if I could place my hand on her back.
She gave in.
I placed my hand on the middle of her back and commanded it to be healed in Jesus name.
With a huge smile that soon turned to laughter she said, “I just love my holy ghost friends.”
I asked if she felt anything.
“Just the presence of God.”
I spoke to the spirit of pain and commanded it to leave, then commanded her spine to be healed and asked how she felt.
Twisting back and forth at the waist she said, “I can’t feel any pain.” She bent down and touched her toes and informed me that all the pain was gone.
She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a big hug and thanked me.
She's bound to have an MRI soon. I wonder what they'll find.
She asked if I’d pray for her dad who we brought from the hospital. I didn’t get a chance to pray with him in the ambulance because I was driving. We knelt down beside his bed and prayed for healing. I gave her some infomation about how to keep the pain in her back from returning and gave her a card to the website.
She thanked us and we left.
I can't describe in words how wonderful it is to be used as an instrument in the hands of God. Nearly everywhere I go there are people who need the great physician's healing touch. Some are on the waiting list, hoping for man's best invention as a remedy for their pain.
Jesus is so much better at healing than we are.

Cecil's Story

I received permission from Cecil to tell this story. It's with gratitude to my former patient and new friend that I'm reporting on the recent events of his life.

To say that Cecil Leadinghorse was an alcoholic is an understatement. By the data collected through the state department of social services and local hospitals, Cecil was the most troublesome alcoholic in the state of Washington.

Prior to 2008, nearly every paramedic, firefighter and emergency room nurse in two counties knew Cecil on a first name basis. His alcoholic antics were the stuff of legends. It was common for him to be transported 3 or 4 times a day. Units were routinely dispatched for "Cecil sightings". Some crews would see him staggering down the street and transport him without being dispatched to get him into emergency room early in the shift so they wouldn't have to pick him up at 3 in the morning.

EMT and Paramedic instructors took special time in their classes to teach crews how to properly transport Cecil. According to the state, his healthcare bill at the expense of taxpayers exceeded 10 million dollars by the mid 1990's.

In an effort to reign in the expense of treating homeless alcoholics in Tacoma, the two largest hospitals developed a jointly funded project called the "Sobering Center". Staffed by one employee, it has 5 rooms designated as safe places for drunks to be transported to instead of a hospital. The rooms have a mattress on the floor and bathroom facilities. Guests are watched for several hours, then released to the community. This project was developed largely to address the problems caused by Cecil's drinking.

If ever an alcoholic had earned the status as a legend, it was Cecil.

While transporting him from a hospital to detox two years ago, I had a God encounter of sorts. I asked God to give me some words that would forever change Cecil's life. I felt that God's sullied reputation in Tacoma could somehow be redeemed if He could get Cecil to quit drinking.

During the transport, God gave me a few things to say. When we arrived at Detox, I asked Cecil if I could share them. He said, 'sure'.

I said that people had been calling him a worthless drunk all his life and he never believed anything different. I told him that every word spoken about him being a useless drunk was a lie and he needed to stop listening to the lies. I told him God didn't make him a useless drunk. I told him that he would one day be a sober man of integrity that others would respect. I told him that people would look to him as an example of how to get free of alcohol. I basically prophesied non-stop for about ten minutes that Cecil would have a new future. He sat in stunned silence and said, 'thanks'.

A little more than 6 months later, (in March of 2009) I saw Cecil in the emergency room. He was there for a minor injury. And he was sober.

It was my turn to be stunned.

I went to the desk and asked the nurses about it. Four different nurses confirmed that he'd been clean and sober for almost 6 months.

Four months later, (July of 2009) I was talking with a Tacoma cop. I mentioned that I'd heard Cecil was clean and sober. He said, "yup, that's a fact. We see him every day at 11:45 walking down 9th street to the Urban Grace church to his AA meetings. He looks like a different man."

For over a year, I've wanted to find Cecil and ask what happened to him. In October of 2010, I spent one day following up on a few patients I transported and prayed with. While driving down Tacoma Avenue, I saw Cecil. I parked the car and got out. I talked with him for about 30 minutes. He gave me permission to tell his story and take his picture.

This is his story:

He told me of the time he lay dying while pounding on the door of the sobering center. He was desperately trying to be let in before they opened. After crashing from being drunk, he began vomiting blood. He thought it would stop, but the blood kept coming.

He tried to get the attention of the caretaker by pounding on the door, but she ignored him.

Filled with fear, he begged her again to open the door. When she did, she saw the blood and called for an ambulance. The crew took him to the closest hospital. He was rushed to the operating room they repaired his ruptured esophagus.

After coming out of the hospital it was time for a wake up call.

He thought about quitting his love affair with alcohol many times. After 23 failed attempts to get sober, he entered a treatment program. He was allowed to live in an apartment above detox.

One day he went to Tim’s convenience store to get beer. They wouldn’t sell it to him so he cursed them out and left. He went across the street and bought a six pack but as he came out of the store, the police saw him and took it away. He cursed them out.

He looked around for his drinking friends but found none. He hopped a bus to the south end of town and tried to buy beer at 38th street, but they wouldn’t sell to him either. He cursed them out and left, a bitter man.

Lonely, empty and sober, he caught the bus back to Fawcett street. He had a stash of two bottles hidden in the bushes. He pulled them out and with determination in his mind never to drink again, he dumped them on the ground. He went back to his apartment and fell asleep.

Cecil remained in treatment, went to his group meetings and hasn’t had a drink in more than 2 years. His life of addiction is finally over.

He has buss passes to get around town but he doesn’t use them much. While driving through town I see him hobbling down the sidewalk with his walker from time to time. He loves to walk.

He can be seen every day going to the Urban Grace church where his AA group meets.

He even has a car – a mid ‘90’s Pontiac that he paid cash for. But he doesn’t use it much. He prefers to walk.

Cecil knows he’s a role model of sorts. He won’t tell alcoholics “Just do what I did.” He believes we’re all different and what worked for him, may not work for them. But he knows he was one of the worst alcoholics ever and he knows that if he was able to do it, anyone can.

I can't say that Cecil has an intimate relationship with God at this point in his journey. He's still sorting things out after a lifetime of abuse, addiction and confusion. I believe he's closer than he was a few years ago.

Some changes take more time than others.

And it is a journey. We take one step at a time.

A Spirit of Power on The Ward

This story was submitted by Michael C. King

Work started off “normal”. I was a Patient Safety Attendant (we call them “sitters”) for a suicide- attempt patient. These are generally easy work assignments since the patient is often a walkie-talkie who is waiting for a bed to open up on the psych ward. This particular patient was barely a legal adult, and an absolute brat to boot. However, her roommate was in her sixties, there on alcohol detox, and God had really been active in her life. The morning got off to a fantastic start when this roommate, I’ll call her “Pam,” woke up.

“I had an odd dream last night,” Pam commented. Having done a small amount of dream interpretation myself, I asked her to tell me her dream, not telling her I had every intention of interpreting it. I don’t remember now what the dream was, but I nailed the interpretation, and it was something God was trying to let her know about herself and a Christian drug-rehab program she was about to enter.

The dream interpretation opened up some God-conversation, and I discovered that Pam was a believer although fairly young in her faith. Somehow we got onto the subject of her arthritis, which she had in her left thumb, both knees, and a few other places. Feeling a little unsure myself, I started with one spot, the thumb. I commanded healing into the thumb and rebuked arthritis. It left.

Immediately.

No pain, no problems, full range of motion (ROM).

I moved on to pray for her knee, same result. No pain; instant healing. I was feeling a bit bolder, knowing that God was healing her right then, so I just commanded all other arthritis to go. Her spine got hot, and she felt the pain in her coccyx go, pain which I knew nothing about since she hadn’t told me.

Breakfast came a bit after that, and we were talking. Pam had orders for a prophylactic anti-emetic (anti-nausea) due to persistent stomach problems, but only received it a few minutes before breakfast arrived, and she didn’t give it enough time to work. She started feeling pretty nauseous, so I offered to pray for her again. She was more than happy to get prayer since she had such wonderful results the first time. It had been years since she could hold a fork and knife normally to eat. I took her hand and prayed for her stomach. It immediately got a warm feeling and all the nausea left.

While this was happening, I got a word of knowledge about God healing some emotional stuff. I didn’t know what exactly, but I knew it was related to her son. I told her this, and she started crying.

What I didn’t know prior to that point was that her nausea at mealtime had started when her son was growing up, and mealtimes were always a very stressful time for them. Since they always fought then, she would get emotionally upset, her stomach physically upset, and she wouldn’t want to eat.

Fast- forward many years later; her body had taken so much emotional pain surrounding mealtimes that her stomach automatically reacted when she ate. Well, God healed that too!!

The rest of the day was up and down--at the time she was there for alcohol detox and not only experiencing withdrawals, but stuck in a room with the brattiest SA-patient ever whose family and friends who mostly just acted like they were at a party.

In her defense, it WAS pretty miserable to be separated by ONLY a curtain, and we didn’t have any more open beds until a room got cleaned from another patient who died late that morning. To top it off, we ended up getting more admits. So, no room-change for her. However, God had given me such favor with her that I was the only staff member able to talk Pam down from her agitation-bordering-on-hysteria and help her through her rough spots that afternoon.

It was a blessing to be able to work with her, minister healing and all around love on her when she was in a tight spot, and it all began with an unsuspecting woman waking up in a hospital bed and sharing a dream.

The Bell Ringer

A woman in a wheelchair sat ringing her bell.

A blur of humanity passed before her eyes.

A handful of coins plinked in her bucket.

The bell rang again.

At the end of my work day I breezed through the store and quickly found a roasted chicken and a bag of coffee.

The woman who ground my coffee asked, "Are you ready for Christmas?" I told her I still had shopping to do.

I made small talk with the woman at the check out counter. People came and went in a hurry. But the lady ringing the bell was on my mind.

Peter and John went to the temple one afternoon to take part in the three o’clock prayer service. As they approached the temple, a man lame from birth was being carried in. Each day he was put beside the temple gate, the one called the Beautiful Gate, so he could beg from the people going into the temple. When he saw Peter and John about to enter, he asked them for some money.
Peter and John looked at him intently, and Peter said, “Look at us!” The lame man looked at them eagerly, expecting some money. But Peter said, “I don’t have any silver or gold for you. But I’ll give you what I have. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, get up and walk!”
Then Peter took the lame man by the right hand and helped him up. And as he did, the man’s feet and ankles were instantly healed and strengthened. He jumped up, stood on his feet, and began to walk! Then, walking, leaping, and praising God, he went into the temple with them.
All the people saw him walking and heard him praising God. (Acts 3:1-9)

Two thousand years later, I was standing before a crippled woman sitting at the gate asking for money.

I took her hand and asked her name, then asked why she was in the wheelchair. She smiled and told me about the problems with her hip. She had an injury that couldn't be repaired surgically and it was too painful for her to stand so she accepted the wheelchair as her fate.

More people came and went from the store. Children dropped their coins in her bucket.

She rang the bell and smiled.

I told her about the woman I'd seen healed of a back injury earlier in the day. I asked if she wanted to be the next one healed.

She smiled and said yes.

I placed my hand on her hip and commanded pain to leave. Then I commanded the ligaments, muscles and tendons to be healed. She felt tingling in her hip. I prayed a second time then a third.

I asked how she felt.

"I can't feel any pain."

"Why don't you stand up and see how it feels?"

She got up from the wheelchair and shifted her weight from side to side, trying to make the pain come back, but it wouldn't return. She was healed. With a smile of gratitude she hugged me.

I spent some time telling her what to expect in the coming days. I encouraged her not to use the wheelchair again and warned her that the pain might return. "Rebuke the pain and command it to leave. Don't take it back." I shared with her about the nature of spiritual warfare and that the enemy may try to convince her she wasn't healed. "Stand on your healing and never stop believing you are healed."

I gave her a card to this website and encouraged her to contact me if she had any questions in the future. I gave her a big hug.

And dropped the largest bill I had in her kettle.

She smiled and rang her bell.

Have a happy and joyous Christmas.

The MIPU

Autism Healed

This is the testimony from a couple who saw their autistic child healed over a period of four years.

Not Just Another Day

At almost 100 miles per hour, the front of the ambulance began to shake a little. Fortunately, our exit was in sight. Hurriedly making our way through a maze of corridors like lab rats in search of cheese, we arrived at the labor & delivery suite. I didn't knock; time was short. As the doctor checked our patient's cervix one more time, I shook her hand, introduced myself and told her, "We only have one rule - no babies in the ambulance." She smiled and nodded, shaking my hand. "I don't plan to have this one today."

Tracy (not her real name) was as kind and pleasant as any patient I've known. She smiled often, despite the circumstances. But not out of denial or ignorance. She was genuinely happy and blessed by the hand of God and she knew it.

This was her 5th pregnancy. Tracy began having having labor contractions a 2 am and her husband drove her to the nearest hospital. It was 13 weeks before her due date. If her child were to be born today, his chance for survival and a normal life would be slim. She'd already had one child who died from complications after being born at 27 weeks. She didn't want history to repeat.

We were called to transport her to a hospital with a neonatal intensive care unit. In the event that her child was born today, he would need specialized care not available at her local hospital. We switched the IV's to the transport pumps, lifted her to our gurney and whisked her out the door.

Once inside the ambulance I briefed her on what to expect during the ride. I told her that many of my patients do better than expected. She was curious so I shared a few stories about how the presence of God follows me around and how He sometimes makes people better without much interaction on my part.

She said she experienced the presence of God following her, too. She felt His presence as soon as we closed the door of the ambulance. We talked for a while about the things we've seen God do. I shared some healing stories and felt led to pray a blessing over her unborn child. I declared that he would live and not die and that he would live to be old and blessed with good health. I asked if she'd chosen a name for him. She said his name was, Nayim, which is Arabic for ‘Blessing”.

As we made our way to our destination, we came to a dangerous intersection. With the lights and siren on, my partner carefully went around some vehicles that had stopped in the intersection. One car didn't stop until it slammed into the back of a taxi. Dragging it's front bumper down the road, it eventually came to a stop a few hundred feet from the accident scene.

With a sigh of impatience, my partner left to check for injuries. I was happy to be stuck taking care of Tracy. In a few minutes, the engine arrived. We gave the Lieutenant our report and continued on our way. There were no serious injuries.

We arrived at the destination hospital. Tracy didn't have a single contraction the entire time she was with us. When we dropped her off in the labor and delivery suite, I had a conversation with her nurse about healing. Her husband has a back injury and is thinking about surgery. I gave her and the patient cards to the website and told them to contact me if there was anything I could do for them. this was just one call out of many in a very busy day.

On another call, I prayed with a little old lady who was assaulted by her son because she was listening to worship music in her house and she told him Jesus loved him. He beat her up her and hit her head on the corner of a coffee table. She had a laceration to the back of her head. As we dropped her off in the emergency room, I said a quick prayer of healing and blessing over her. She was all smiles and thanked me.

We went on another call that tried my patience a little. We transported a man with Lou Gehrig's disease to a doctor's appointment. He's on a ventilator, which makes everything a little more complicated. I'm always aware of how much oxygen we have in our tanks. Ventilators run on compressed oxygen. If we run out of oxygen, the vent doesn't work. When the vent doesn't work, I get to breathe for the patient after that. On this particular call the appointments were running an hour behind schedule. To make a long story even longer, we had him on our vent for almost 4 hours. It was the call that didn't want to end.

As we waited, I quietly prayed for him to be healed. His wife was kind enough to buy me a mocha at the coffee stand in the clinic. He wasn't healed. At least not that I could tell. He happens to be in a room just down the hall from my friend Scott who also has Lou Gehrig's. I've been praying for Scott too. To be honest, I was weary of well doing by the end of the day.

It's been a hectic month on the MIPU. I'm praying for many people and seeing a lot of them blessed and healed. I'm also getting opportunities to teach others about healing which is just as important.

Wishing you a peaceful and joyous holiday season,

Praying Medic