\u201cOkay. I\u2019ll go.\u201d My husband, Allen, looked up at me from his wheelchair, his voice resigned, almost a sigh.<\/p>\n
I stood by the dresser unfolding a pair of his pajamas. We were in the middle of our bedtime routine. Once I\u2019d gotten Allen into his pj\u2019s I\u2019d hoist him into bed with a special lift anchored to the ceiling. Then I\u2019d get myself ready, take a bath, brush my teeth.<\/p>\n
If he was still awake when I got into bed we\u2019d say some prayers together.<\/p>\n
Or not, considering the odd request that I had just made. Allen was a quadriplegic, paralyzed from the torso down as the result of a motorcycle accident. I had asked him to go see a faith healer with me, someone I had read good things about online.<\/p>\n
Our own church is pretty traditional, so I probably sounded desperate. Or maybe to Allen it sounded like I was getting fed up with taking care of him. I opened my mouth to tell him that wasn\u2019t true, but he spoke first.<\/p>\n
\u201cI can tell it means a lot to you,\u201d he said. \u201cWho knows? Maybe something will happen.\u201d The kindness in his expression made me so sad I hurriedly got him dressed and into bed.<\/p>\n
In the bathroom I stared at myself in the mirror. It had been a year since the accident. Allen, the doctors said, was done healing. He\u2019d gone back to work part-time as a college campus minister. He was coping well\u2013better than I was, in fact.<\/p>\n
Before the accident, Allen had taken care of everything\u2013the house, our finances. I looked after Lily, our four-year-old. I wasn\u2019t ready to make all the big decisions.<\/p>\n
Allen\u2019s care exhausted me. I prayed and prayed for him to be healed, to walk again, but nothing happened. It seemed like God just wasn\u2019t hearing me anymore. I found myself wondering, what if someone else prayed for us, someone with a gift for healing? Was it too much to expect a miracle?<\/p>\n
Allen wasn\u2019t the sort of person who expected miracles. His faith was quiet and steady, like he was. That was part of the reason I thought he might respond to Lawrence and Liz Banda, the couple whose healing ministry I\u2019d read about online.<\/p>\n
Lawrence and Liz were from Africa. A few years earlier they had felt called by God to move to Kansas City. They held special services at a small hotel conference room, and anyone who needing healing was welcome.<\/p>\n
Lawrence preached from Scripture then led a prayer session. He and Liz accepted no money. They were sincere and down-to-earth, like Allen. \u201cI think they\u2019re for real,\u201d I told him. \u201cI think God can use them to help us.\u201d<\/p>\n
It was no mean feat getting our little family of three to Kansas City. But thankfully Lily was a good traveler and was used to all of the extra steps in our routine. We packed everything we needed\u2013wheelchair, medical supplies, luggage\u2013into our van and hit the road.<\/p>\n
I prayed as hard as I could on the four-hour drive, but my mind kept wandering, flashing back to that terrible accident.<\/p>\n
It was two days after our thirteenth wedding anniversary. A warm August morning. Lily had just started preschool. We took the motorcycle out for a ride. Allen was a good, safe driver and we stayed on slow country roads.<\/p>\n
I loved our lazy rides through the countryside. I\u2019d wrap my arms around Allen, rest my body against his and mentally recite Scriptures and hum while we rode. So relaxing.<\/p>\n
But that August morning barely five minutes into our ride, for no apparent reason, I\u2019d felt a prickle of fear. So I\u2019d prayed, God, I know it doesn\u2019t please you when I live fearfully. Help me to trust you. <\/em>I leaned into that trust the way I leaned into Allen on the bike.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Then we hit a patch of gravel\u2013must have been left over from some construction, but there were no signs and Allen didn\u2019t see it till too late. The bike skidded out from under us and we went flying. I wound up with a concussion. Allen broke his neck.<\/p>\n Did I trust God now? I wanted to. But why did I feel so nervous? I glanced at Allen. He was looking out the van window. What was he thinking? Was he nervous too? Was he mad at me for dragging him along?<\/p>\n All these months of recovery and rehab and uncertainty, he\u2019d never been overwhelmed. Impatient sometimes, grumpy sometimes. But never angry or depressed. Maybe he was just resigned, like when I had first brought up this whole crazy idea.<\/p>\n Well, <\/em>I thought, Jesus tells us to pray and expect an answer. <\/em>God would come through for us. He just had to.<\/p>\n We got to the hotel in Kansas City and carted our things to our room. The service was the following morning. I barely slept. First thing, I got up and busied myself getting Allen and Lily ready.<\/p>\n We made our way downstairs. Allen rolled into the conference room ahead of me. Lawrence and Liz motioned for us to join a group of about two dozen others. I noticed no one else was in a wheelchair. Was Allen the only one needing healing?<\/p>\n The worship leader struck up some music and we sang praise songs. Then Lawrence got out his Bible and preached from Isaiah. \u201cThe salvation offered by Jesus is offered to all people,\u201d he told us. \u201cAnd Jesus came not just to save our souls. He healed the body too. He came so that we might have full, abundant life.\u201d<\/p>\n I drank those words in. I felt myself full of anticipation.<\/p>\n \u201cLet us pray,\u201d said Lawrence. \u201cAllen, may we put you in this chair?\u201d He pointed to an armchair. Allen nodded uncertainly. With the help of many hands, he was transferred from his wheelchair to the armchair.<\/p>\n He looked apprehensive. Lawrence and Liz laid their hands on him. \u201cReach out your hands to Allen and his family,\u201d Lawrence instructed everyone. I felt hands on my shoulders.<\/p>\n Lawrence began to pray and his prayer lasted a long time, at least 15 minutes. I kept opening my eyes, looking at Allen, watching for some sign that he had been healed. I saw Lily with her eyes squeezed shut, her lips moving.<\/p>\n \u201cIn Jesus\u2019 name, amen,\u201d Lawrence concluded. The room went quiet. Everyone waited. I stared at Allen.<\/p>\n Please, God.<\/em><\/p>\n Allen stared back. He didn\u2019t move.<\/p>\n One last song, then the service was over. \u201cThank you for coming,\u201d said Lawrence and Liz. \u201cGod be with you.\u201d<\/p>\n We got Allen back into his wheelchair and the room slowly emptied. I had to force myself to take Lily\u2019s hand and go back to our room to pack. Allen and I said nothing. I loaded the van and we headed for the freeway.<\/p>\n I couldn\u2019t cry, I told myself. I had to be in charge. Oh, how I hated being in charge! Especially now that I\u2019d dragged us halfway across the state, gotten our hopes up\u2026all for nothing. Would Allen ever forgive me?<\/p>\n We got home. The bedtime routine once again. By the time Lily and Allen were tucked in I was exhausted. I ran hot water for a bubble bath and fixed myself some cucumber salad. I sat in the bath eating salad, feeling numb.<\/p>\n Help me to trust you, <\/em>I\u2019d prayed that morning on the motorcycle. God was supposedly my Lord and my Protector and yet he\u2019d let this accident happen, this totally random, preventable accident.<\/p>\n Then we\u2019d gone all the way to Kansas City to this healing service. I\u2019d prayed harder than I\u2019d ever prayed\u2013even Lily prayed! And Allen was still lying in the bedroom unable to move his legs and his lower arms. What was there to trust?<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I shook my head. I couldn\u2019t keep thinking like this! It was wrong. It hurt. I cast about for something else.<\/p>\n I thought of a friend we\u2019d had over a few days ago. She was going through a rough time, and I\u2019d been struck with how stable our family was by comparison, how well-grounded in our routines. Every night we read aloud to each other, ending with a passage of Scripture and prayers. It was my favorite time of day.<\/p>\n It reminded me of when I was a child, my parents reading Scripture to me before bedtime. Sometimes I\u2019d hear them praying together before they went to bed themselves\u2013often praying for me. How safe and protected and cared for I\u2019d felt!<\/p>\n Allen and I did our best to give Lily the same sense of God\u2019s presence in our home. Obviously she was picking something up. She\u2019d prayed hard in Kansas City.<\/p>\n I looked up from my salad. Something was different. I hadn\u2019t seen or heard anything. And yet something in the room\u2013or maybe in me\u2013felt different.<\/p>\n Lily praying, Allen and me praying, my parents praying, this long chain of prayers stretching back through the years\u2013what was that if not a powerful sign of God\u2019s constant loving presence in my life?<\/p>\n Of course he hadn\u2019t turned away. I had. I\u2019d demanded a very specific outcome then pushed God aside when he didn\u2019t follow instructions. What did I want more? An outcome? Or God himself? I wanted God.<\/p>\n And he was here. In this room, in our house, in our strong, faithful family.<\/p>\n I felt almost giddy climbing out of the tub. Lawrence and Liz had laid hands on Allen in prayer. But maybe Allen wasn\u2019t the one who needed healing. Maybe it was I who had been healed that day, granted the miracle of acceptance.<\/p>\n I dried off, brushed my teeth and put on my nightgown. I walked back into the bedroom. Allen was asleep, his face peaceful, like it so often was. I loved him so much.<\/p>\n I knew the coming years would not be easy and there would be times when we both wished Allen could get up and walk like before the accident. But I could accept that. I knew there was something greater than my definition of healing. There was the Healer himself.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u201cOkay. I\u2019ll go.\u201d My husband, Allen, looked up at me from his wheelchair, his voice resigned, almost a sigh. I stood by the dresser unfolding a pair of his pajamas. We were in the middle of our bedtime routine. Once I\u2019d gotten Allen into his pj\u2019s I\u2019d hoist him into bed with a special lift […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":29291,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"ep_exclude_from_search":false,"footnotes":"","_ppma_block_editor_authors":"","_wpscppro_dont_share_socialmedia":false,"_wpscppro_custom_social_share_image":0,"_facebook_share_type":"","_twitter_share_type":"","_linkedin_share_type":"","_pinterest_share_type":"","_linkedin_share_type_page":"","_instagram_share_type":"","_medium_share_type":"","_threads_share_type":"","_bluesky_share_type":"","_mastodon_share_type":"","_selected_social_profile":[],"_wpsp_enable_custom_social_template":false,"_wpsp_social_scheduling":{"enabled":false,"datetime":null,"platforms":[],"status":"template_only","dateOption":"","timeOption":"","customDays":"","customHours":"","customDate":"","customTime":"","schedulingType":""},"_wpsp_active_default_template":true},"categories":[376],"tags":[58,51,72,80],"ppma_author":[1156],"class_list":["post-21269","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-managing-life-changes","tag-guideposts","tag-inspirational-stories","tag-stories-of-faith","tag-stories-of-hope"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n