The Healing, The Angel, My Testimony
What Happened When They Prayed for Me
Originally posted on my blog years ago, this story is a reminder that healing sometimes finds us when we least expect it.
I was severely injured (as in last rites and funeral arrangements) in a car accident one bright Sunday morning about thirty-five years ago. All of the damage was to the right side of my body. I won’t subject you to every detail of all the broken or busted body parts, but I want to share the story of my leg.
For me, most of the first two days is a blur because I kept drifting in and out of consciousness. I was told by my mom that my diagnosis kept changing.
On the first day, I wasn’t going to make it because I’d lost too much blood.
The second day, I would live—but I’d probably lose my right leg.
Then it became, “Maybe we can save the leg…”
During two surgeries on the third day, totaling about seven hours, the surgical team (God bless them all) did everything they could to save it. The final prognosis (I was awake and coherent for this one) was: “We were able to save your leg, but you will never be able to walk unassisted.” I’d always need crutches or a wheelchair.
In addition, I required at least a 30-day hospital stay, followed by months of physical therapy.
On the fourth day, I was moved from the ICU into a semi-private room with a really sweet elderly lady who liked to hum and read her Bible.
The Healing
Unbeknownst to me at the time, two of my aunts had been calling my mother daily, waiting for a chance to see me so they could come and pray. Let me be clear: at that time, I was not a practicing Christian, and I really wasn’t in the mood for a whole lot of Jesus talk. I was in a lot of pain and cranky because I wanted a cigarette, so I was not happy about the prospect of seeing them.
But they came anyway. And they were on a mission.
After a couple of minutes of exchanging pleasantries with my other visitors, they politely asked everyone to leave the room and started praying—quietly at first—but as they went on, they got louder and louder and LOUDER. I expected (and hoped) someone from the hospital staff would come in and make them stop. No one came. And they kept on praying, laying hands on my leg, speaking in tongues, binding this, and loosening that in the name of Jesus.
Finally, after what seemed like a long time, they quieted down. It was over.
Then, just to prove God has a sense of humor, my roommate asked my aunts to come and pray for her. 🙂
“And these signs will follow those who believe: In My name they will cast out demons; they will speak with new tongues… they will lay hands on the sick, and they will recover.”
—Mark 16:17–18
I left the hospital six days later.
The mid-thigh to ankle cast was removed after eight weeks, and I was given one of those green, spongy immobilizers to wrap around my skinny, pitiful-looking leg. Without the hard cast to shield it, the ability to feel everything returned, and brought with it a new round of pain. My leg was so sensitive that even the cool breeze from a fan hurt.
The Angel
At the time, we had a mean, cantankerous black cat named Coco who disliked most people, including me. But she developed a soft spot for me after the accident and began sleeping with me.
Every night for a few weeks, I was awakened by something touching my leg. The touch was soft and feathery, but I couldn’t see anyone. I knew the cat could see her—she always stared at the spot where the angel stood and purred softly. When the angel left, she’d go back to sleep.
After a while, I got frustrated not being able to see the angel and tried to ignore it. Then one night, she showed herself—and it was amazing.
Imagine a bolt of lightning against the night sky. Now, see that bolt in the shape of a person. If your imagination can stretch that far, then you’ve seen my angel… a being of pure golden light in the distinct shape of a human.
I believe she showed herself that night, so I couldn’t dismiss her touch as just some strange phenomenon in the healing process. And so I would never allow anyone else to dismiss it either. She was an angel. And I saw her.
That God cared so much He sent two faith-filled, hard-praying believers and an angel to minister to my leg while I was still a non-believer fills me with so much gratitude and awe I can’t even begin to explain.
My Testimony
I started—and shelved—this post about four months ago, but I was inspired to finish it yesterday by Angie Kinsey at anjikinzywhimzy.com, who planted a seed when she asked: “Do you believe in miracles?”
That question was further explored in her blog post “Miracles and Moments,” where she wrote:
“I’ve had people tell me about miracles (big and small), angel encounters, and near-death experiences in private, but rarely in public. I’ve had some of them say to me, ‘You know, I don’t tell everybody this…’ and I always wonder why. Are they just waiting for the right moment to share it with the right person?”
I can honestly say I didn’t know why I hadn’t shared this illustration of God’s awesomeness, His angels, and the power of faith (even if it’s not your own) to heal. Perhaps I was waiting for the right person to write the post that would convict me for not publicly giving God the glory for my healing.
Thank you, Ms. Kinsey.
I am pain-free and walking just fine. I can’t run—but who cares? I never ran before the accident. I’ve had several doctors over the years tell me that I’m a walking miracle.
I’m inclined to agree with them.
Be Blessed!!