Tag: power of prayer
On the morning of April 27th, 2003 my wife got up to go to work at about 5:00 am. She turned to look over at me because she thought I was “breathing funny.” Upon closer inspection I was what the doctors call aspirating; I was unconscious, sweating profusely and unresponsive. My wife called 911 and three emergency vehicles and two police cars were at our house in a matter of minutes.
Now remember, I had my boys 4, 11, and 14 sound asleep until the sirens and lights woke them. That was pretty traumatic and something they will NEVER forget! My wife hustled the youngest one into our oldest sons bedroom.
The firefighters/medics had a hard time negotiating my 6’5″ 240 lb. body out of the house on the gurney. It must have been quite a spectacle for the neighbors, as they had to carry me out the sliding glass door and around the house!
I was taken to our local hospital where the doctors stabilized me and their initial diagnoses was that I had suffered a heart attack. Because I was still unconscious I was then transferred to another hospital that was more suited to this type of trauma, and after about 4 hours at St Joseph’s in Tacoma, my wife was told that I had suffered a “septic shock and multi-system organ failure with acute renal and respiratory failure.”
I had something like 139,000 red blood count. My pulse was 173/130 and so on; I was on complete life support and in a coma! It was REALLY ugly! I was “intubated” (tubes in my nose and throat down in to my lungs) and lay comatose in the hospital bed for four straight days without any type of response or encouraging sign. Doctors were asking every question you could imagine; they even had considered it being a case of SARS, and asked if I had been out of the country.
The worst part was when the police started questioning my wife! They were asking her, and some of our friends and family members “if we were having marriage problems?” They asked about any “problems with our relationship?” The kinds of questions that police ask when they suspect foul play, but definitely something that a grieving wife does not need to hear. I’m sure you know what I mean!
Anyway my parents flew back from Mexico, where they spend seven months out of the year, to be at my bedside. That evening the doctors took them and my wife outside my hospital room and said that the situation was “very bleak” and they had no idea was caused this episode. All my vital organs were full of infection and the doctors finally asked the inevitable–if I had any kind of a living will. They also asked if I was an organ donor. Since I was “clinically dead,” they asked if I had ever left any instructions about how long I would want to continue to be kept alive artificially on life support, or anything of that sort.
Needless to say that totally freaked out my wife and parents!!! Not to mention my boys, who were continually asking how their daddy was doing. My little four year old, Jady, was leading his preschool class in prayer because “he needed his daddy more than God did right now.”
During that week my family, fellow church members, and friends came to my bedside. My skin was yellow from jaundice because my liver was not functioning. My eyes were rolled back so that all you could see was the “whites,” or should I say “yellows” of my eyes.
That evening my Senior Pastor and Youth Pastor, with whom I had worked with for five years, prayed over me until visiting hours were over. The consensus was that everyone felt like they were saying their good-byes. After everyone had left, my second cousin came in, for the first time, right at the end of visiting hours, around 10:00 PM. I remember waking up, not having any idea where I was, or why I was there strapped to a bed with tubes and hospital machinery everywhere. There was my cousin and he was sitting next to my bed praying.
Now remember, I had tubes in EVERY orifice of my body, so I could not communicate at all. I had also been restrained to the bed because, according to the staff, I kept trying to pull the IV and other tubes out of my body during muscle spasms, and to top it off I had no idea why or where I was! So my cousin lifts up his head and I’m staring at him.
I will never, in a million years forget the look on his face…it was like he had seen a ghost! His eyes welled up with tears and he said “Jeff…Do you know who I am?” I tried nodding my head and tried SO hard to talk, but couldn’t. He asked me if I knew what happened…I shook my head no. He called the nurses in and proceeded to tell me this awesome story about how I was in a coma for almost five days.
Within hours almost my whole family was at my bedside and even though I couldn’t talk, everyone was weeping and hugging me. Before I knew it I was surrounded by most of the special people in my life. The most precious thing I remember was my four year old saying…”I told everybody God wasn’t going to let my daddy die!” His little hand grabbed my finger and I looked into that little face…It’s a feeling that can’t be put into words, but it’s an experience that has changed the whole focus of my life.
The doctors still can’t explain my sudden illness nor do they know what caused it. By the doctors admission it was nothing less than a miracle! The next day the tubes were removed from my nose and throat and five days later I was released from the hospital.
So…. believe it or not…that is still the short version. Even now I’m still recuperating…I had a lot of degenerative muscle damage and a subsequent stroke on top on that, so though I’ve got plenty of healing still to do…I’m just glad that God gave me a second chance.
I’m still waiting for some sort of “epiphany” or “sign” as to why my life was spared, but that has yet to come. I still get extremely emotional when I’m lying down and my little four year old Jady” comes over and puts his ear to my chest to “make sure Daddy’s heart is working good.”
I think this is just a glimpse of my story…there was obviously so much more going on behind the scenes. Because I was comatose I have most of my information from my wife and family. I remember when I was coherent enough to realize what had happened, I read my medical report and couldn’t believe all that had happened to me.
There is one thing that I distinctly remember while I was in my coma: I remember hearing prayers, continuous prayers in my subconscious (I later learned that my story had literally been emailed worldwide and I was being prayed for fervently). I believe this is why I’m alive.
Never underestimate the power of prayer!
Believe in miracles, and hold your children and loved ones a little closer.
Hug more often and remember that you can NEVER say, “I love you” too much.
I’m grateful to be alive to tell this story and I give all the glory to our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ!
This miracle story was submitted by “J.A.” from WA.
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I have been unemployed for most months of 2010. At first, it was by choice that I left my job, then after entering the workforce again in only 2 months, our office closed and I found myself out of work again.
By this time, my husband and I were concerned that should my situation continue, our future can end in uncertainty. I’ve always prayed to God although admittedly, not regularly, but when the time came for me to start my job search, I started my novenas and daily rosaries.
After a few job rejections, I started feeling downhearted. I continued to pray but doubt started to creep in that I only got interviewed but never got hired. I became frustrated and thought that God won’t answer me.
Around noon one day, I started to prepare for an interview scheduled in the afternoon. That morning, I attended an interview and although it went well, I expected that I would get rejected as I had always been. Feeling “down-spirited”, I prayed to God to guide me as I go on another interview.
I said that I will persevere in the job search but if He would be so merciful to answer my prayer for my husband’s sake as he is more worried than me about my situation. My words were: “God, please end my husband’s suffering.”
I then opened my Bible at random and it opened at Isaiah 62 “God’s spirit is in my heart.” It spoke of God’s good news to the oppressed. The reading renewed my spirit and thanked Him for inspiring me as I go into another interview.
Not 5 minutes later, I received a call from the person who interviewed me in the morning and offered me the job. I immediately called my mother who told me she was praying a novena to St. Pancratius for intercession in my job search and that it worked for 2 other people before me. St. Pancratius is the patron saint of the unemployed and the youth.
I just want to say that God does answer our prayers and His delay is not His denial. I hope other people get to read this especially those in the same situation as myself and renew their hope and always remember that God and His Saints are here for us. Praises and thanks to God who never loses faith in us.
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When I closed my eyes that evening I didn’t know I would spend most of that month fighting for my life. The story I want to share is the power of a prayer or maybe in my case the power of a hundred prayers. It was not until 22 days later that I was told the whole story by my husband, family and medical personnel. Here is the story that has truly been called a miracle by the nurses and doctors.
It was Tuesday morning, and I was not in the best of condition. I was told that I would be placed on a respirator because it was inevitable that it would be necessary. At 8am I was sedated. The doctors and nurses struggled to place the breathing tube down my throat. They could not get the tube down my throat.
They proceeded to try my nose and still had trouble but eventually managed to break through and successfully place the tube inside my lungs. My husband remembered the sound of the respirator turning on and all the beeps and thumping of the vent which now controlled my breathing.
It was now Wednesday and the doctors approached my husband to inform them that they feel ARDS was affecting my lungs and there was a 80% mortality rate. My lungs were hardening and was not easily excepting the life saving oxygen. I was still struggling to fight this infection that had started to shut my organs down. The antibiotics were not helping and my system went septic.
My lungs filled with fluid and my body swelled to 50 extra pounds of fluid. My eyes turned yellow. I was taken for exploratory surgery to rule out gallbladder concerns. I was poked and a sample of my bone marrow was also taken to be tested for cancer.
My husband and coworkers along with some people I really did not know but who knew of me stopped in. Some asked my husband if they could say a prayer over me, others informed him they placed my name in their church prayer group to pray for me. Even some came and grabbed my husband’s hand and said a prayer. Cards with co workers names arrived as each mentioned how they will pray for me.
It was Friday that my husband made a decision to send me to a larger hospital with better ability to get lab results back and a hospital with more specialist available to me. The doctors agreed and soon the calls went out. Suddenly I started to take another turn for the worse.
My liver was shutting down, my spleen was enlarged, and last my kidneys were no longer functioning correctly. A nurse rushed in and explained to my husband that, my condition was far more serious and they would do everything in their power to keep me alive throughout the night. As they rushed platelets of blood in one after another my husband was told to drive to U of L hospital. Life flight was going to jet me to this hospital. I was rushed to my room and was being monitored throughout the night.
I am not sure what came over me, other than a miracle. It was just a short 10 days when I woke up. My body lost 40 pounds of fluid, my tube feeding removed, my eyes opened, and my throat sore from the vent tubes. My body, so weak, unable to walk, talk, or use my arms or fingers.
The doctors and nurse all stated that I was a miracle. No one really expected me to live. I have to believe, it was the prayers of so many friends, family and co workers, and even people who I didn’t even know.
This miracle story was submitted by “M.S.” from MI.
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Praying is a huge part of my life. It seems that every time I pray I feel that God is listening very careful to me.
Last year, on the month of July, I was set to go to Singapore for an international program. Unfortunately, two days before my trip I got sick. Being sick at that time was a REALLY BAD THING because it was when the influenza virus H1n1 struck out.
So I did every thing. I got blood tests, drank my medicine and the like. I was desperate. I didn’t want to miss this trip. I then resorted to praying to St. Jude, the patron of desperate situations. I prayed his novena.
And you know what, an amazing thing happened while I was praying. I could feel my body cool down and the sickness going away. As if I was automatically healing. I thought that the fever would come back but it didn’t. I was in good health. My feelings at that time were so overwhelming.
I actually experienced a real miracle. Although some might say that I was bound to get well anyway, I still believe that my prayer and faith saved me.
This miracle story was submitted by G. A. from the Philippines
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It was Oct. 8th, 2001, a day that seemed like the world would end. Our second oldest grandson, Logan, had been ill with infections of several types. Finally his mommy, my daughter, Danielle, decided to request blood tests from the doctor, having that motherly intuition that Logan had leukemia.
Her worst fears were realized…Logan had AML, the worst type of leukemia. He was rushed to the Hershey Medical Center in Hershey, Pa., where he was given a 20% chance of survival. As his grandfather, I contacted every email prayer chain I could find on the internet…later receiving emails from around the world from groups and churches that were praying.
Chemotherapy was difficult for us to watch and witness, but Logan at age two was a trooper. I spent one night in the hospital with Logan to give his mommy and daddy a chance to be at home with their other children. That night I talked to my Savior, Jesus, for hours as I watched Logan trying to sleep during the therapy. I can’t say that Jesus audibly answered my requests, but He heard me and a healing began in this little child.
Several months later he was considered in remission with a few minor problems. They noticed a “mass” around his heart and some rare type of “bug” was in his bowel system, neither of which the doctors knew how to cure. More prayers and more talking to Jesus….and within a few months both problems disappeared.
Logan has been in remission for 6-1/2 years now and is as healthy as any nine year old could be. He is on the swim team, plays baseball, ice hockey, and frolics with his siblings. He takes no medications of any type and his immune system is perfect.
The only thing we do every day now is thank Jesus for His healing touch.
This miracle story was submitted by “I.B” from PA.
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God allowed me to live three times.
The second time was in July, 2000. I’d been really sick for months and months and all I could eat was yogurt and fruit cocktail and green beans. I was in the hospital in June 2000 for 10 plus days. I passed bile from both ends for most of those days.
The Chief of the hospital told my husband and me that it was my gall bladder, but they couldn’t operate because my gall bladder wasn’t showing up as bad. I signed myself out because I decided I could go home and die. They weren’t doing anything for me there.
By the end of the next month, July, 2000, I went to a doctor’s appointment and my white blood count went to 20,000. The first time I’d been hospitalized in June, it was 15,000. I’d also like to say, the first time I went into the hospital, I’d driven myself there and had my father-in-law with me because it was his appointment day, not mine.
My doctor saw me in the waiting room and asked me what I was doing there and I told him I brought my father-in-law for his appointment. He said while you are here, let me check your white blood count, and that’s when it was 15,000.
My father-in-law was stranded. It was about an hour and a half drive from home so my husband had to come get my father-in-law. Then, on the July visit, I’d had an appointment with the eye doctor. I was out of my acid reflux medicine and went to my clinic to have it refilled.
My doc came out and said while you are here, let me check your white blood count. It was 20,000 and again, I drove myself to the hospital. My doctor informed me that there were no surgeons on duty at the VA hospital and he transported me to a civilian hospital (Rowan) there in Salisbury.
The doctor was waiting for me in the ER. He immediately sent me for an ultra sound and gave me a Demerol shot because by the time they finished the ultra sound which is not painful at all, it did leave me in pain because of the pushing of the instrument on my stomach around the gallbladder.
When the Dr. came in, he asked me if I had any family with me and I said no, but my husband was on his way because my VA doctor called him. The Dr. said it was my gall bladder and he said he was going to try to do my surgery the next day in the morning, but if he could get the crew together he wanted he’d do it at midnight. At the time he told me this, it was approx. 4:30 pm.
He kept coming in and asking me if my husband had gotten there yet. I said no. Finally at 5:45 pm, my husband arrived and my Dr. came in and asked if it was my husband. I introduced the Dr. to my husband, they shook hands and the Dr. said kiss her good-bye we are going in now to take her gall bladder out.
That was a far cry from midnight or early in the morning. He explained to my husband that it was a 45 min. surgery and I’d be in recovery about that long and if I did well, I could go home the next morning and he said if my gall bladder wasn’t inflamed he was going to use laser.
While on the operating table, both my lungs collapsed, my gall bladder was gangrene, and ruptured and dead. I also got pleurisy and pneumonia in both lungs. When the surgery was over, the Doctor told my husband I was not going to make it. I had to go on life support for a few days, then when I wasn’t doing much better, they went ahead and took me off. They never even bothered to put me in ICU.
By the grace of God, I lived and I got out of the hospital 8 days later. The Lord has been good to me. That was not my first miracle for myself. My first miracle happened years before, in 1976 I had a head-on collision going 60 mph.
I lived and had a broken neck, but didn’t know my neck had been broken until over 20 plus years later. I knew I was hurt at the time, but there was no technology to see a hairline fracture in 1976, like there is today. My head bobbed like the little dogs that people have in their cars.
I praise God for both those miracles and for the one I just got. And the most recent miracle came just a month ago. There were 2 nodules found on my left lung that the doctor thought was suspicious. The “C” word was never used. I went into the hospital on Aug 16, and had the surgery to remove those nodules that day. I had to go on life support because it was my lungs they were operating on and the ventilator helped me breathe until I could do it on my own.
I got through the surgery just fine and the nodules were benign, praise the Lord!!! I did alright for a couple of days off the life support. But, after that, I couldn’t breathe right and I had a fever of 104, they packed me in ice and I caught sepsis and also pneumonia and was put on life support again.
I saw angels in my room, 3 on the right side and 1 on the left side of my room, and I saw white angels guarding the gates of Heaven and I saw the most beautiful white light coming out of the top of the gates that these huge angels were guarding.
It was a gut wrenching experience because God allowed me to live and He also allowed me a glimpse of glory. It was so amazing that the first week I tried to talk about it, I couldn’t do it without crying and sobbing my heart out.
The doctors gave me a 50-50 chance. Because of the Lord and His love for me, His child, I lived. I love the Lord with all my heart and soul. I was in the hospital for about 16 days with 14 of them in ICU. I give all the glory to the Lord for loving me enough to let me live through all these things.
I also praise Him for allowing me to have angels to watch over me and protect me and I am so blessed to be able to see a glimpse of Heaven. God is truly wonderful and loving and kind. Most of all, He is real, very real and I was on lots of prayer lists and I feel like every prayer that went up for me is why I am here today recuperating.
These three miracle stories were submitted by “L.C.” in MS
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It was a beautiful autumn day, September 26, 2006, to be exact. Usually that time of year is still very hot in Houston, Texas, but not this particular day. The sky was Colorado blue and the temperature was in the upper 70’s with no humidity. That in itself was a miracle if you know anything about Houston weather!
It was my mother’s birthday and I was on my way to visit her gravesite. My mother had been with the Lord for about a year and a half by this time. About 2 weeks prior to her birthday, I found myself in the midst of major grief and depression.
I knew where my mother was for she loved the Lord Jesus with all of her heart. She taught all 10 of my brothers and sisters about the saving grace of Jesus. Still, my soul was heavy laden with sadness and I would cry at the drop of a match.
I drove myself to the cemetery and walked toward the grave and the bench we had placed nearby. I began to pray to God and thanked Him for the precious mother that He gave to me. I also asked the Father to give my mom a message for me. I asked Him if He would please tell my mother thank you for me and to tell her how much I love her and miss her. I also asked Him to give my mom and big birthday hug and kiss for me!
I was still very weepy and sad so I began to sing some hymns of praise and worship. I surely thought that putting a song in my heart and on my lips would lift me out of my despair but it did not.
It was almost time for me to pick my son up from school. I had been at the cemetery for about 1 1/2 hrs. singing and praying the entire time. As I walked back toward my car, I was just as sad as when I got there. I said to the Lord, “Please God, take this burden from me and replace it with your joy. Where I have sadness, give me happiness. Where I have brokenness, please give me your healing. I thank you, Father, for receiving my mother into Your Kingdom and I look forward to being with all of you. Please God, I cast this care upon you and ask You to handle it for me because it is much too overwhelming for me.”
As I prayed and made my requests known, I felt as if a huge, very heavy cloak was lifted off of my shoulders. The sensation was so real that I stopped in my tracks and turned around to look, fully expecting to see a this big, kingly cloak laying on the ground. I remember chuckling out loud and saying, “Thank you, God.”
Before I reached my car, two more “cloaks” were lifted off of my shoulders. I can honestly say that although I miss my sweet mother tremendously, it is well with my soul. I have not had another hard cry since that day. On my mother’s birthday, the Lord gave me a gift. It was the gift of grace from El Shaddai -the All Sufficient God!
This miracle story was submitted by “R.D.W.” in TX.
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On January 15, 2007 I had a hysterectomy at Loyola Medical Center in Maywood, IL. The hysterectomy was very successful. The doctor who performed the procedure is a top gynecologist at the hospital.
Just before I was getting ready to be discharged my gynecologist wanted me to have a cat scan of my lungs. He did not like the way I breathing. As I was laying flat on the table I vomited. The vomit burned my lungs. I was in ICU for six weeks.
During those six weeks I was put into a paralyzed state because everything that was keeping me alive was also making me feel very uncomfortable. During those six weeks my kidneys shut down. I was also on dialysis for one week.
At one point the doctors gathered my family around and told them that I might not make it. At the end of six weeks I beat all odds and DID make it. The power of prayer really works! So many people were praying for me.
At the end of six weeks I went to RML Specialty Hospital in Hinsedale, IL to be weaned off of everything that was keeping me alive. By March 17th I was beginning to finally know what was going on around me. Up until then, I just remembered my niece coming to pick up my Mom after my hysterectomy.
I stayed at RML Specialty Hospital for four weeks. After being in bed for ten weeks I had to go to a nursing home/rehab to build up my strength again. I was in the nursing home/rehab for three months. I am home now walking with a walker. I truly believe the power of prayer is why I am here today!
This miracle story was submitted by “D.K.” from IL.
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I would like to share my story as a testimony to God’s miracles, and to the power of prayer.
My husband and I were expecting our fourth child. I had a normal pregnancy up until about 31 weeks when the doctors noticed there was a problem in the baby’s growth; he was only in the 10th percentile for his gestational age. Because of this, the doctors began monitoring me more closely, doing non-stress tests and ultrasounds twice a week.
At 34 weeks, they noticed that I had excessive fluid around the baby, that the baby’s limbs were alot shorter than they should be, and that the baby appeared to have a “double-bubble” stomach. My doctors here in southeastern New Mexico decided to send me to a maternal fetal medicine specialist in Odessa, Tx (about 80 miles away).
In Odessa, Dr. B____ performed another ultrasound. He confirmed the problems that the doctors at home had stated, but he was able to give these problems a name. The “double-bubble” in the baby’s stomach was a condition called duodenal atresia, where the tube leading from the stomach to the small intestine is not present, or is blocked. Because he wasn’t able to pass any of the fluid, the baby’s stomach and kidneys were bloated beyond normal.
As long as the baby was in the womb, the doctor assured me he was fine and not in any pain, but that he would need surgery to correct the duodenal atresia shortly after birth. Because the baby had this condition, shortened arms and legs, and the fact that I has so much fluid surrounding him, Dr. B_____ also informed me that there was a great possibility that the baby would be born with Down’s Syndrome. Because of all of these complications, the doctor wanted to send me to Dallas, TX (about 400 miles from home) to deliver in order to be close to some of the best NICU departments and children surgeons in the world.
Of course, my husband and I were devastated. We were worried about the life expectancy of our child, and about the things that he might not be able to do if he was born with Down’s. However, although we both felt like having a child with Down’s syndrome would be a challenge, we knew that it would be so rewarding and that we could give him the best life possible. We weren’t really upset about Down’s syndrome, we were terrified of the surgery and the recovery. Plus, we had three school-age children that we would have to leave at home with family while we were gone to Dallas.
I had almost a week to get ready to go to Dallas, so I prepared my kids at home, my kids at school (I was a sixth grade teacher), and we tried to prepare ourselves. We called all of our family, and we were put on prayer lists around the country. My husband, children, and I prayed every night at the dinner table like we always did, but we really focused on praying for our unborn baby. I cried alot, but I knew God would help us through — he always has before.
We went to Dallas when I was 36 weeks pregnant, met with Dr. M____ (Maternal fetal medicine), and the surgeons at Children’s Medical Center. Dr. M____ did another ultrasound and confirmed Dr. B_____’s findings. The day after we arrived, they induced my labor. After three days, still no baby, not even close.
In the meantime, everyone continued to pray for us. We missed our kids, they missed us, and we were worried about the new baby. However, God heard the prayers of our friends and family, and even though the circumstances were trying, God gave us a peace that I cannot explain in words. We just knew everything was going to work out, and we continued to pray.
After the third day of labor, the doctors let me go back to the motel for the weekend and they said we would try again on Monday. Monday morning we went back in to be induced, I didn’t progress, and they finally took the baby by c-section.
My little J. S. R. was born January 24, 2005 and weighed 4lbs 14oz, and appeared to be doing well. Almost immediately after birth, we were told that he did not have Down’s Syndrome. That night, the nurses in the NICU gave him a bottle, and low and behold the next morning he pooped! He was never supposed to be able to do that until after surgery because his intestines weren’t attached to his stomach. My husband and I have never been gladder for a dirty diaper!
They transferred the baby to Children’s Medical Center to run tests to see what happened. They ran X-rays, upper GIs, lower GIs, did blood work, you name it. After four days of extensive testing, they finally told us — not only did J. not have Down’s, they could not find any evidence of the duodenal atresia. Our little boy was small, but perfectly healthy.
We came home after being in Dallas for two weeks. All the doctors apologized for their “mistakes”, but I told each and every one of them, “I don’t believe that the four doctors at home, the doctor in Odessa and the doctor in Dallas all mistaked his diagnosis — God healed him.” I believe that God wasn’t finished with J. the first day they induced my labor, that’s why I was in labor for three days without moving close to delivery. God was still working on him, healing him, and He wasn’t ready for J. to be born yet!
I know without a doubt that God healed my son, that He heard all of those wonderful people that remembered us in their prayers. I want everyone to know that God makes miracles happen every day, and that He does hear prayers. He can give you a feeling of peace when your world is falling apart. God is awesome! I feel extremely blessed not only to have a healthy son, but also to have experienced first-hand one of God’s miracles.
The baby is now 14 months old, and although he is slightly behind on some of his gross motor skills, he is doing wonderfully!
This miracle story was submitted by “K.R.” from New Mexico.