Your stories of God’s intervention
Pineapple-sized tumour disappeared!
Gerry was a grandmother when I met her in church, but she told me the story of how God had removed her tumour miraculously when she was much younger and enabled her to live to raise her children. It has encouraged me ever since. She said when X-rays revealed a tumour the size of a pineapple in her abdomen, she was stunned. Even amid the shock, she knew that she desperately wanted to live for her two small children. She needed to be there for them, and her prayers centred on that single desire.
Sometime later, she heard of a healing service and went for prayer. She did not experience heat or other sensations in her body, yet she felt a certainty in her spirit that God had heard her and removed the tumour. She was filled with joy. Gerry knew that the tumour was gone and that she was fine, but her strong-willed Greek husband did not feel the same. He loved his wife and did not want to lose her. He adamantly insisted that she have the suggested surgery. Gerry did not argue but submitted to the surgery. She knew that she would live to raise her children. That is all that she had asked of God. She was relieved and knew that she would heal from the incision.
When Gerry groggily awoke from the anaesthesia, the shaken surgeon was waiting by her side. He had operated without finding a tumour and was afraid of being sued. He insisted that he had proof of the tumour’s prior existence on X-rays. Gerry told him: “I knew that the tumour was gone. God healed me.” The surgeon may or may not have believed her, but he was visibly relieved. “I thought that you told me that you had never before had surgery,” he said. “I haven’t,” answered Gerry. “That is strange; when someone internally tears, the healed scar is irregular on the edges because people tear along cell walls. Cell walls are round,” he said, adding: “At the place inside you where I expected to find the tumour, I found a scar. It was a perfectly straight line that only a scalpel would make. Scalpels slice through cells.” Gerry looked at the surgeon and replied: “Dr Jesus!” We can only hope that the surgeon found a measure of faith that day through that surgery.
Barbara
Warning about Freemasonry
Last week I went on a date with a guy who had told me he was a Christian. Soon into the date he said he had joined the Freemasons recently. From previous research I knew about their occultist rituals and oaths. I nearly left the date but felt God say “stay”. I felt prompted to give him words about his name and what God designed him for. God told me he had struggled with speaking when he was younger and that was because he was called to be a mouthpiece. He was shocked that I knew this. I also felt to ask him who he thought the Mason’s Great Architect was, and he said he didn’t mind if it was God or Lucifer. We were together for two hours, and I was able to speak life to him, and share what I felt God tell me about him and how much he loved him. I believe our date, although it didn’t turn out to be romantic, was God showing up in his life, even though he was not aware of it. I will continue to pray for him.
Alex
God miraculously provided me with my own home
I’d been lodging with different families from my church for a few years when the time came for me to move. I felt God prompting me to have faith to buy my own place for the first time. This felt both exciting and rather daunting. I was in my early 40s, still single and had for many years only worked part-time; the rest of my resources going into mission and ministry. Not only that, but as I continued to pray, I believed the Lord was leading me to move to quite an expensive area located near the railway station, since I didn’t have my own car. It was a beautiful place I really wanted to live in – quiet, leafy and only a stone’s throw from a riverside walk, but I struggled to accept that God really wanted me to have my heart’s desire in such an incredible and seemingly impossible way.
The Lord took me to Deuteronomy 6:11, in which he promises the Israelites “houses filled with all kinds of good things you did not provide”. He also showed me I needed to confess my unbelief and doubt, after which a new joy and peace flooded my heart, and I knew that somehow he was going to make this work.
He asked me to pray and walk around the whole of a particular complex of flats, and to lay my hands on the bricks. At that time, none of the flats were for sale, but a month after the prayer, two came on the market. Feeling a bit of a fraud, I asked to see one of them; as I crossed the threshold, the Holy Spirit told me that this was the one. I looked up and saw a stained glass rose in the door that made me smile, since I love roses. God asked me to put in an offer below the asking price, which I did, still unsure as to where the funds might be coming from. The owner accepted the low offer, since he needed a quick sale. He also offered to give it to me fully furnished – including whatever kitchen utensils, lamps, curtains etc I wanted to keep! I could see God’s word being fulfilled.
Then, my mother offered to pay a large deposit on the flat, after the money became available against all the odds. My father was by then in full-time care with early onset dementia, and all my parents’ savings had been set aside to pay for this, following the instruction of a financial advisor who had explained that there was only an extremely small chance of his care fees being even supplemented by the local authority. Miraculously however, after an assessment, the NHS took the “unprecedented” decision to offer full funding for my father’s continuing healthcare needs.
This was breathtaking, but I still needed to get a mortgage on a very small salary. But a Christian friend and accountant offered written evidence in support of my application and found a special first-time buyers’ offer with a mortgage provider they knew. I couldn’t believe how God had made a way for me.
A few years later, working through the shock and grief of a marriage that had ended when my husband unexpectedly left, God gave me Proverbs 15:25: “he protects the property of widows”. He also tenderly spoke to me about the address of the flat I still lived in and loved: 41 Christian Square. I’d already clocked the Christian significance obviously, but not the number. Four One. For one Christian…It was as if he was reminding me that no detail ever escapes him.
Thank you, Father.
Bobbie
