CHRONICLES OF THE PRAYING POSSE

CHRONICLES OF THE PRAYING POSSE

My praying friends and I have currently been named The Praying Posse because we know how to pray by interceding in the Holy Spirit. When we commit to something we completely commit to it. Miracles have abounded in powerful ways.
This story will warm your heart and bring God bumps to your skin. I used to call them goose bumps, but "God bumps" are similar. The only difference is they come quickly on the skin inside and out, they give a rush to the mind and bring joy to the emotions when miracles are reported in answer to prayers.
Over twelve years ago Cathi, one of the Praying Posse, came to Bible Study and asked that we pray for a young girl whom she and her daughter had observed sitting on the porch of a nearby school. The girl was obviously crying and Cathi knew that prayers were needed. We didn't know the need, just knew there was a person in need. So we started praying for the girl. In fact, Cathi said the girl looked like Sara, the daughter of a prominent local man. We all knew the man and the daughter, so we agreed to pray for her together as well as separately. We prayed together every week for a while, naming her name. Then we stopped naming her name, but we all consciously prayed for her regularly.
It turned out that the need was great because Sara and a boyfriend had killed some people on a crime spree while high on drugs. We began to include Sara's family, too, because the burden was insurmountable for them. Sara went to prison, sentenced to thirty years.
Our prayers intensified for Sara and her family. Sara was incarcerated in one of the southern states where one of the murders occurred.
Sara's mother found a way to handle her grief. She began to minister love and encouragement to women in our local state prison. She counseled them and taught educational classes to them every week, accepting them as her own family, making a difference in their lives.
Sara also decided to handle her incarceration in a positive way. She began teaching Bible classes and educational classes while in prison. Her ministry has turned many lives around and has prepared the other imprisoned ladies for life after prison. Sara and her mom individually, in different states, have brought dignity and respect and love to other women, a wonderful way to handle their grief and burden of guilt.
Through an article in the newspaper last week we saw that Sara was being released from prison after ten years. We were all elated, but nonetheless knew that our prayers for her will not cease because she will have tough times learning to live outside of prison walls.
God let us all know that we are still connected and joined through a miraculous way. The following paragraphs chronicle a wonderful God Incident. We used to call them coincidences, but now we know they are instigated by God so they are God incidents.
Marcia is one of the Praying Posse members. Her husband came home this week with a letter that was "mistakenly" placed in his post office box. The letter was from Sara but it was addressed to Sally a friend who is a also prayer warrior and who has a prison ministry. Sally's name was clearly on the letter but no box number was added to the letter. Yet the letter ended up in the post office box of Marcia's husband who brought it home and asked her to deliver it to the proper person. Only an angel of God could do that to let us know that we are all still connected and one familly by the Spirit of God. Sara addressed the letter to Sally, the letter had no box number, and somehow it ended up in Marcia's husband's post office box.
Yes, we will never stop praying for Sara. Why would we? God originally led Cathi to observe Sara crying before she was even arrested for the horrendous crimes, then she asked us to pray for Sara, which we have done all these years.
Twelve years later, during the week that Sara was released from prison, Marcia's husband finds a lost letter in his post office box addressed to Sally, a friend who has probably counseled and ministered to Sara through the mail all these years. And now Marcia has delivered the letter to Sally.
Yes, we have been called to continue our prayers for Sara. That letter was a red letter message to us to continue praying.
God has magnificent things for Sara's future. Forgiveness is a certainty. That forgiveness was bought and paid for over two thousand years ago by Jesus. Now Sara has a glowing future.
Thank you, God, for loving Sara and for sending the angel to put the letter in the wrong box (actually the right box) to let us know to continue our praying in support of Sara. You're a Great Dad.

IS FORGIVENESS APPROVAL?

A loved one named Helen asked me this week to expand on the term "judgment" for her. She opened up the discussion after I told her a testimony about a friend whom I just found out had had a ten year long affair. I related to Helen that my reaction to the news about the affair was that I was very disappointed in the friend.
The point of my telling Helen the story was to tell her the insight that the Holy Spirit gave to me about how my disappointment in my friend had quickly turned into judgment. In fact, my disappointment had immediately made the left hand turn into judgment, judgment of him that he had disappointed me and had caused a breakup of a family that I had considered an ideal family.
I had stewed in the teapot of disappointment for a few days before I realized that it was affecting me emotionally. I knew that I needed to pray for the male friend and his wife, who are both local civic leaders.
It was during that evening of concentrated prayers for the two of them that the words of God came to my mind that released me from the judgment that had originated in thoughts of disappointment. God reminded me of the background of the friend, and God told me that because of the friend's background that the actions of his years long affair were normal in his mind. I had forgotten that his mom had done the same thing for years and that the situation had benefited her and her boys because the man involved with his mom had supplied many things that the mom could never have supplied. So that was the programming for my friend, that it was normal behavior.
With that insight from the past, I was able to immediately release my friend from the disappointment/judgment that I had for him. I was able to let him go from my disapproval which would have surely emanated from me had I seen him at some social or business affair. With God's insight into the matter, I could understand my friend and his motivation and I could love him with an understanding heart. I could offer my love and help to him instead of a disapproving attitude or even an attitude of indifference toward him, which both had been seated in my disappointment/ judgment of him. I was free, because of God's insight, to love him since the disappointment and judgment were gone.
When I was telling the story to Helen, her reaction was an interesting one. An instant opposition to what I was saying was apparent, although it was a loving one. She asked that I explain judgment to her, because she never understood what I meant in my writings when I wrote that God says not to judge, that he says to forgive everyone for their offenses.
I was taken aback, wondering how many other people were stuck in the same demonic blinding in their lack of understanding of the very things that Jesus taught so many times.
As Helen continued to speak, it became apparent that she thought that saying that we must not judge people meant that we approved of their sins, their wrong choices, their iniquities, their law breaking, etc. She fully understood the fact that we must separate the sin from the sinner, but she was under the mistaken impression that refusing to judge him meant that we approved of the very misdeeds that plunged him into the unpleasant situation in which he found himself.
Helen and I discussed the insight that refusing to judge someone means that we release them from our condemnation, our disgust, our disapproval, our disappointment so that we can love them like God loves them, unconditionally, regardless of their actions. It means that we understand temptations because we are faced with them every day, and we understand the hereditary or experiential motivation of the person; and because we understand we can extend love and acceptance and help to them when we are in their presence.
True and godly compassion means that we understand and we extend love rather than condemnation.
Unfortunately every one of our actions sow seeds and those seeds will return to us. So every action, good or evil, has it's own results. We don't need to add our punishment to it. My friend's affair has already returned plants to him from the seeds that he planted, judging him by them. His family is broken. His children oppose him. His reputation is tainted. His wife has left him. He has suffered loss in many areas.
Now I can be compassionate toward him because of his losses. How fleshly of me to have had thoughts of disappointment and judgment of him, adding to his losses of my wanting to withdraw my friendship from him. Now that God has given me understanding and insight into the situation I can shower everyone involved in the situation with love and understanding instead of disappointment and judgment.
Helen is musing and meditating on the truths that we discussed. By speaking the insights that she got from our discussion, she was able to understand that forgiveness and lack of judgment has nothing to do with approval of something we consider evil, but it has everything to do with understanding and loving unconditionally regardless of the actions of others.
God does the same towards us. He lives in us, so He extends the same grace to others through us that He does toward us, covering everyone with love which smothers out even a multitude of sins and trespasses. Yes, God's love for me by His explaining to me my friend's motivation for his affair covered my disappointment and judgment of my friend and set me free from condemnation of him. The results were freedom for me and freedom for my friend from my judgment of him. Now I'm free and I can pray for his freedom.

THE DRUNKEN STREET PREACHER

I've listened to many different kinds of preachers, radio preachers, TV preachers, Baptist preachers, Pentecostal preachers, liturgical preachers, philosophical preachers but I had never heard a drunk one preach until recently. Let me correct that, I have heard ones who are drunk with the Holy Spirit but that's a good drunk, being drunk with new wine like the people on the day of Pentecost. In fact, I've been drunk on the new wine of the Holy Spirit myself and it's a great experience. You experience joy unspeakable.
While in San Francisco recently we had an interesting experience. We heard a street preacher who was inebriated, but still he was talking about God and his marvelous ways. No words of hell, fire and damnation came from his mouth, only kind, loving words.
How the event played out was that several of us were watching our daughters, sons and in our case our granddaughter at soccer practice in a park. We were sitting on benches and enjoying the antics of three and four year old children doing soccer drills.
Suddenly out of nowhere an unkempt man approached the spectators and asked us a strange question, "Do you think it would be offensive if I smoke a cigarette out here in the park in the sight of the children?" What a gracious question to ask. He seemed genuinely concerned about smoking where the children could see him.
We all assured him that it was fine with all of us if he smoked because he was certainly far enough away so that the children wouldn't be subjected to the smoke. He wandered off and sat on a bench about 25 feet from us. He walked unsteadily, staggering a bit, and it was very obvious that he was under the influence of some form of alcohol. He plopped himself down on the adjacent bench and lit a cigarette. He watched intently as the soccer coach led the children in their drills. Then he would gaze admiringly at the spectators as we cheered every accurate kick of the ball, while we laughed and talked among ourselves.
After a few minutes the man staggered back into our sight and began his preaching. He told us that the children were very blessed to have parents and grandparents who encourage them and treasure them. He added that the soccer coach will be blessed mightily by God because she is teaching children valuable lessons that will benefit them in life. Then he quoted the scripture, "Whatsoever you do to the least of these My children, you do to Me." And he told us that the young soccer coach was right in the center of God's will because she was speaking kindly and lovingly to the children, so she will be blessed.
I became very impressed by the man's knowledge of the Bible at this point.
He went on to say that he didn't have any admiration from parents or other adults as a child and he is delighted to see that there are children who have a foundation of love, that it will give them a stability in their lives that he never had.
Then the sermon preached by the drunken man switched subjects to what happened in the Garden of Edan when satan tempted Adam. He made it clear that Eve influenced Adam, but that Adam was the one who was responsible for allowing satan to enter the earth. He went on to talk about problems between men and women and how the problems affect families.
My thoughts were that this man has more revelation than a lot of preachers who were standing in pulpits that day preaching to an auditorium full of people.
Quickly the sermon switched subjects again. It began to be apparent that some people in our group of spectators were getting weary of listening to him and trying to watch the children at the same time. The new subject of his sermon came in the form of a testimony. He began to tell us about his alcoholism. He testified that hard liquor had ruined his life. He said that God is gracious and kind, that He has taken away the desire for hard liquor. The man said the desire for the taste of hard liquor is completely gone. Then he confessed that the desire for the taste for beer is still with him, but he is trusting God to take away the taste for beer, that he only drinks a few beers every day. My husband and I encouraged him, agreeing that God will complete the work He began.
The other spectators were very edgy by this time, so my husband gently told the man that we were pleased for him, but if he didn't mind that we really wanted to devote all of our attention to watching the children in their soccer pursuits.
The drunken street preacher apologized profusely with genuine humility for taking up our time, but he did want us to know how God helps him personally.
He reiterated that God will bless the soccer coach for her kindness to children, that the children are blessed by having loving parents and grandparents, and that we will all be blessed by God for bringing up the children with love and respect and kindness.
The kind gentleman staggered back to his bench and resumed watching the soccer practice.
He secretly drank from a can of beer discretely concealed within a paper sack, I'm sure to conceal it from the sight of the children.
As soccer practice ended, the man rose from his bench and staggered deeper into the park toward the area where homeless people sleep. We all watched him with what I'm sure were varied emotions, some with relief that he was gone. One of the moms said that all the parents chuckle at the fact that the "crazies" in the park never come out unless out of town grandparents are visiting soccer practice. All the other parents agreed.
My husband and I told them that we weren't bothered in any manner, that we were impressed with his knowledge of the Bible, his revelation knowledge and his gentile nature.
As we rose from our benches to leave the park the kids began running and playing together, and the parents were discussing the schedule for the next practice. My husband and I walked slowly away and joined hands and quietly prayed that God would complete the work that He has begun in that wonderful man, asking that God will completely take away the taste for all alcoholic beverages in an instant, and that the man will be completely whole again with a revelation of how much God loves him and honors him, even in his present addiction. That's the way God works, he looks beyond the outer man with its imperfections. God sees the inner man and his needs.
I know God is blessing the street preacher who spoke Truth to us in loving words, even with slurred speech and unsteady legs. God spoke through an ass one time to Balaam. God spoke kind words to us through a drunken street person, a homeless man who was fighting his own personal demons.
God is a Good Father and He will see that the man wins his battle. We have asked God to do that for that lonely man who is surely one of the people Jesus spoke about who are "poor in spirit" and said that "theirs is the Kingdom of God." Jesus also said whatever two people agree and ask on earth, that God will do it so we know that God is giving that man the desires of his heart, completely taking away his addiction,
That drunken street preacher may become another Paul, sent to preach freedom to other captives of alcohol and drugs who have been rejected by their families, who gather together in the park with other troubled lonely people in an effort to form a semblance of a family.
The drunken street preacher certainly blessed me and I know God is blessing him.

photo from www.life.com/image/1675450

photo from http://www.aspencountry.com/

Brother Jerry, Wherefore Art Thou?

At the Las Vegas airport, on the second leg of our journey, the person at the airline desk announced that our flight to San Francisco would be delayed in boarding for about thirty minutes. "No big deal," we commented after we called our daughter and told her about the delay since she and her family were going to pick us up in San Francisco.
However, after boarding the plane and taxiing for a short ways, the pilot came on the intercom and said that we would be waiting on the plane another hour before taking off due to weather at the San Francisco airport. No problem for us since we're flexible.
Again we make the call to our daughter about the delay.
Fortunately our seat mate was a talkative gent, eager to pass the time in conversation. He asked about our children, told us at length about his family and his business adventures in construction. We were delighted to converse since it passed the time quickly. By the time the hour in delay passed we were old friends with Jerry, knowing lots about him and his family.
Clearance from the tower came after an hour, and we made the much anticipated long taxi down the runway and the plane took off an hour and a half later than the scheduled time.
Steve began reading his book and I finished reading mine. Soon after departure the plane ride began to be unusually bumpy and rain began to streak by the windows in great force. That unpleasant ride continued for a long time and other passengers began to get jumpy and concerned.
I commented to Steve that this experience reminded me of our airplane trip to Houston eightteen years ago after learning that I had breast cancer and a lesion in my lung. On that fateful trip I was scheduled for an early appointment at M. D. Anderson the next morning with a world renown breast cancer specialist and we had to get to Houston that night. We were scheduled to land in Dallas and take another plane to Houston Hobby Airport. The skies around Dallas were unsettling and the plane was being tossed around like a toy by the turbulence. Since it was expedient that we get to Houston that night so I could make the appointment the next morning, Steve and I started praying that God would make a way for us to get to Houston. After circuling Dallas for a long time, suddenly the pilot came on the intercom and said that the plane was not able to land in Dallas because of the weather conditions, so the plane was going to go to Little Rock, Arkansas, and land there. Since we had to get to Houston and we were unsure if we could make connections in Little Rock we continued to pray amidst the griping and groaning of the other passengers. They had other plans also, and Little Rock was not in their plans, nor was it in ours. About thirty minutes into the diverted flight to Little Rock the pilot made another announcement, that being that we could not land in Little Rock, so the only other place we could land would be Houston Hobby, exactly where Steve and I needed to go. It was a miracle for us, that God could divert the plane to where we needed to go so that I could make the difficult-to-arrange appointment the next morning.
That was the story I told Jerry, our seat mate, about our experience nineteen years ago. He was delighted with the story and grinned from ear to ear.
Jerry began to tell us some fabulous testimonies. One involved a nine million dollar spec house he had built right before the bottom fell out of the housing market. It would not sell and would not sell. Jerry related to us that he fell flat on his face before God one night and asked for help in selling the house. Sure enough, a few days later he had not only one but two offers to buy the house. He sold the house to the highest offer, of course.
As we were approaching San Francisco, in the landing pattern we could see the ground getting closer and closer. The ride became even more bumpy and jerky. Suddenly the engines roared and the nose of the airplane went up in a steep climb for a few miutes. We were above the clouds again. As we leveled off the pilot came on the intercome and announced that we couldn't land in San Francisco because of weather conditions, so we were going to land in San Jose. That announcement was met with more gripes and groans from all the passengers.
The delay in landing gave us opportunity to hear another of Jerry's testimonies. He told us that after the sale of the house, he decided to do some charity work since God had answered his prayer for a buyer for the house. He began to work at restoring a camp for disadvantaged and abused children. At the camp the pipes carrying water from the springs to the swimming pool and pond were full of sand. Jerry told us that he worked one evening until almost midnight trying to clear out the pipes so that the swimming pool and pond could fill with fresh water from the mountain springs. He was not successful and left for home having failed in his efforts. Jerry told us that the next morning someone called him and commented that Jerry was a miracle worker. Jerry answered the young man, saying that he was in no mood for sarcasm. The young man told Jerry he had to come see the swimming pool and the pond, which Jerry did. He couldn't believe his eyes, the pool and the pond were filled with fresh, cold water from the springs. God had performed a miracle for Jerry. He commented to us that he is still wondering what happened to the sand in those pipes which had previously stopped the flow of any water.
We rejoiced with Jerry, exclaiming about the wonders of God.
Then Jerry noticed the book that Steve was reading, The Shack, which is about having a one on one relationship with God. Steve gave the book to Jerry and told him it is a good book, which Jerry had already heard that critique from other people.
Our plane landed in San Jose and passengers who had carried their luggage onto the plane began to rush down the aisle to get off, while the pilot and flight attendants cautioned them to get back to their seats. The pilot apologized for the rough ride and the sudden climb, explaining that his notification of a dangerous wind sheer necessitated the maneuver.
Eventually 45 passengers were released from the plane while all of them complained and griped, hurling insults about the airlines, etc., not realizing that their lives had been saved.
Jerry and Steve and I were excited about God's activities in our behalf, so we were laughing and talking. Standing in the aisle, pushing to exit the plane, one woman commented, "You're the only happy people on this entire plane." She didn't know that we know the Rescuer and Savior so we weren't worried.
Another young woman noticed the book, the Shack, in Jerry's hand and commented what a great book it is. Steve told Jerry, who agreed, that he certainly needed to read the book since there was a confirmation from another person.
Jerry had contacted his son, who met him in San Jose instead of San Francisco, and he was able to exit the plane with the others. He was very generous to offer to take us to San Francisco to our daughter's house about two hours away. We declined his offer, knowing that we could fly back to San Francisco on the same plane and take a taxi to our destination.
Jerry exited the plane after graciously accepting my card bearing the web sites of my blogs and my YouTube reading. On his way off of the plane, he waved a loving gesture, smiling a huge smile, knowing that God had arranged the encounter, making a celebration out of the chaos.
Brother Jerry, I know you're out there telling people about the way God arranged your steps, as well as ours, so that we could hear your testimonies and celebrate them with you. and you could hear our testimonies and celebrate them with us.
God has a way of doing that, bringing creativity out of chaos.

MIRACLE IN A BUICK

Mothers-in-law and daughters-in-law have a long, long history of having problems, sometimes resulting in alienation of members of families. For some reason mothers-in-law and sons-in-law don't very often have that problem.
I had a good relationship with my mother-in-law Marguerite Allen. She was a smart, congenial, active lady who had four sons. She had a special relationship with all of her daughters-in-law.
Some relationships were occasionally stormy, but most of the time there was great love and respect for the matriarch of the family. She was educated as a nurse, found that was not her calling, but she became a professional woman after college in the early 1900s . She professed to having been the head of the first welfare system in Denver.
We all knew that Mom's word was the final edict in any situation, not only with Dad but also with the sons and their wives. I would say obedient respect is a good phrase to describe our attitude toward her.
She listened very closely all of the time and when birthdays and Christmas came around we always received multiple gifts from her and they were always articles that we had at sometime or other voiced that we wanted or often it was something for which we had only wished. She was a giver of goods, for sure.
When Mom was in her late 70s she developed polymyalgia, a muscle disease. She eventually ended up in a wheel chair. That was a real blow to her independent nature, but it seemed as time went by that a sort of enjoyment came along with the care and attention that the wheel chair afforded her. Dad was very good about taking care of her and carting the wheel chair around from place to place in the trunk of the car.
As years went by, pain began to escalate as the polymyalgia gained more control of her body and there were times when the pain showed on her face. Most of the time she was reluctant to admit to having pain, as women of that generation were inclined to refrain from sharing emotional fluxuations.
On one occasion when my husband Steve and I were visiting Mom and Dad she seemed particularly feeble because of the pain. Yet, the custom was that we always went to The Club to eat an elegant meal and she wasn't going to miss that tradition for anything.
We got her ready to go and Dad wheeled Mom out to the car and put her in the passenger seat. I got in the back seat where I usually rode. Dad and Steve went back into the house to get something and that left Mom and I alone in the car.
Mom told me pitifully that she had been in so much pain that it didn't seem like she could stand it anymore. I asked her if she wanted me to pray for her. She immediately said she welcomed the prayer. I knew that I had the anointing of the Holy Spirit even before I touched her because I felt that familiar heat in my hands that I had felt many times when praying for people.
I touched Mom on the shoulder, prayed a very short prayer, Episcopalian style since that was their denominational preference, and I felt the fire of the Holy Spirit go from my hands into her body.
"Oh, my goodness, Tommye. That's wonderful, " she squealed, setting aside her usual emotional control.
"That's God," I answered.
Steve and Dad came out of the house, having retrieved what they sought. They got in the car but nothing was shared about the spiritual event that had just happened between God and Mom. Sometimes when we immediately give voice to such an occasion the words rob it of its reality. That's why Jesus occasionally told some people to, "Tell no man," after a miracle had occurred in his ministry.
We ventured off to The Club. When we arrived Mom proudly stated that she didn't need her wheel chair and the guys didn't need to get it out of the trunk. Dad asked her, "Are you sure? I certainhly think you need to use it."
"No," she firmly stated. "I don't need it." She walked into The Club assisted only by Dad and Steve lightly touching her arms. She was "aglow with the Spirit."
I know that she had felt the power of God in her body and it had thrilled her. The next time we talked on the telephone she told me that she wished I was there with her to "touch " her again.
I don't remember her talking about pain again, even though she did eventually go back into the wheel chair.
As I look back on the occasion of Mom being "touched" by the power of God, I see that it was a miracle that she walked into the Club. She had not walked with confidence in several years and I know that her muscles were deteriorated from lack of use as well as the effects of a crippling disease.
When I think of Mom now I always visualize that look of utter surprise when God's power surged through her body, resulting in an expression change from one of pain into one of utter joy and peace.
Marguerite Allen had the privilege of experiencing God's love before she met him face to face in heaven where she is completely reveling in it. I'm sure she thanked God even more excitedly in heaven than she was able to in the earth when she was covered by His love and power that time in the front seat of the Buick.

LUCKY LADY

The Tuesday Girls have been meeting for twenty-five plus years for lunch, prayer, Bible study, sharing of stories and laughter. We formerly met every week on Thursdays but changed to Tuesdays a few years ago. We have thousands and thousands of testimonies of answered prayers, many of which astound other people, as well as us.
My favorite testimony relates to guess who? Me. Of course it would be my favorite, because it happened to me at a very fearful time in my life. I had been diagnosed with breast cancer, which was scary, but I had been healed of breast cancer before and I knew that I would be healed again because I had had a dream relating to it that gave me the assurance of being healed. However, I also had received notice from my doctor that there was a tumor in my lung.
Now, that was really scary because that meant that the cancer in my right breast had metastasized into my right lung. That news threw me for a loop. The breast cancer I knew could be defeated, but two areas of cancer in my body shook my confidence in God.
After a trip to Houston to confer with specialists there, I came back home to have a breast biopsy, later a lumpectomy, also thoracic surgery to remove the tumor in the lung and then radiation and possibly chemotherapy. That was a lot to swallow. But, I did have the prior dream that I would be emerge healthy. The thought kept coming to my mind that I wondered how God was going to heal me this time, yet fear was always present. I knew the healing would be different from the last time.
One day while waiting for the day of the lung surgery to arrive I was visited by one of the Tuesday Girls. Marcia came to bring a meal to my husband and me. When I let her in the door she saw the fear and concern on my face, I'm sure evidenced by my eyes which were swollen and red from crying. I was the teacher of the Tuesday Girls. I was supposed to be strong. She was shocked by the fear I was displaying on my countenance, so she just very simply just put her arms around me and said, "Father, give Tommye peace."
Neither Marcia nor I were prepared for the immediate results from that prayer. In the matter of a split second I began to laugh uncontrollably from the depths of my being. I laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed. It was catching, I guess, because Marcia also began to laugh. There was nothing to laugh about, but we could not stop. I remember leaning against the wall in the entryway so that I wouldn't fall down laughing. That rare episode went on for at least fifteen minutes with both of us laughing in what I now know is holy laughter brought from God to chase away fear, dread, doom, and any other afflicting thoughts. When we forced ourselves to at least slow down the laughter Marcia delivered the meal into the kitchen, then left on another errand. I continued to laugh for hours no matter where I went in the house.
When my husband Steve came home, I could hardly tell him about the peculiar day I had had because every time I started to comment on it I started roaring with laughter again.
Finally when nighttime came I was able to eat and sleep without laughing, but the next day and for many days after that glorious day every time I passed the place in the hall where Marcia had prayed for me, I began deep belly laughing again. It was wonderful. The fear and the dread and the concern and the doom were still gone. I know now that the laughter was coming from my spirit because my spirit knew that God had immediately healed me and the way to affirm the healing was for me to be overcome with joy.
Marcia was the beautiful vessel that God chose to deliver healing to me. I will be eternally grateful to her for her obedience. I think she just meant to deliver a meal, but she ended up delivering much more. She delivered healing to my body.
Later on, while still waiting for the appointed day of the lung surgery Cathi, another Tuesday Girl, called me on the phone and told me that God had told her to tell me that not a bone would be broken. I was thankful that Cathi heard that from God, but frankly I wasn't concerned about my bones. I was concerned about two tumors, one in the right breast and one in the right lung. I graciously thanked Cathi for that message, puzzled about the bone reference.
After the lung surgery the surgeon told me that I was a very lucky lady. He exclaimed that my ribs were so flexible that he was able to merely move them out of the way when he removed the tumor from the lung. He said that he usually has to break a person's ribs to remove a tumor growing at the location of the one in my lung. His comment was that when he has to break the ribs of a person that they usually have pain in their rib area for the rest of their lives but that I wouldn't have to suffer any pain because he did not have to break any of my ribs. The additional good news was that the tumor now was benign, confirming my dream.
The mystery was solved. Cathi had prophesied to me the outcome of the lung surgery, that I would emerge with no broken bones.
Every one of the Tuesday Girls prayed passionately for me during that precarious time in my life. We have shared so much together, food, laughter, tears, prayers and deep, deep love.
What a lucky lady I am. L-U-C-K means living under Christ's kindness and I am one Lucky Lady.

STANDING TALL

Can a leg really grow several inches in a few seconds?
Yes, it can because my husband and I witnessed it.
Several years ago a six year old boy and his mom came to the small church we were attending at the time and the mother told the pastor of the church that her son had told her that God told him if he would go to, "Bob's church," have the elders pray for him, that God would lengthen his short leg and he wouldn't have to wear his bulky steel brace and ugly shoe with the three inch thick sole.
My husband Steve had never visibly seen a miracle but he had experienced one, having been transformed from an alcoholic to a sober person by God the preceding year. He knew God could do anything and everything, but this was an unusual request. It wasn't new to Bob, the pastor, because he had seen a lot of miracles happen in his church and other churches.
The pastor called certain men up, the elders, and positioned them behind the boy who was seated in a chair. Steve happened to be the one who was standing at the boy's back. Bob told the men to lay their hands on the boy. Steve laid his hand on the boy's back at hip level of the short leg.
Bob prayed a short prayer asking God to make the boy's body whole and perfect. All of a sudden Steve said, "Wow," and jumped back as the boy's leg began to lengthen to the same size as the other leg. Steve was astounded that he could feel the leg begin to grow under the hand which he had laid on the boy's hip. The boy was indeed healed.
The boy and his mom walked out of the church with the boy carrying his bulky brace with the brown shoe and its three inch sole. He was grinning from ear to ear, walking without a sign of a limp.
Many years later we came face to face with the mother of the boy. She recognized Steve as one of the men who had prayed for her son. We inquired about her son who was now in his late teens. She gleefully told us that he is wonderful young man, tall and healthy. She proudly stated that after her son was healed at the church that they took the brace with it's orthopedic shoe and threw it in the Arkansas River, never to need it again.
The child's faith certainly made him whole. He was obedient to what God told him to do, and he left that church with a leg the same length as his other one.
Children and God just seem to have a special bond. After all, He said, "A little child shall lead them." In this situation the boy's faith certainly led many people to believe in the ability of God to heal.