Tag Archives: miracle

Space Between

Philippines

The breeze was gentle as the sun began to set in the distance. I could already hear the musicians beginning their warm up set near the bottom of the mountain, as others prepared for the kickoff event of our annual youth camp.  One hundred and twenty-seven students from 50 villages would soon converge on a grassy mountainside to hear the gospel for the first time. I wondered if they would even be able to stay awake since most of them traveled hours that day to attend the camp.

On my way down the mountainside, I was met by our first aid worker with three sick youth.  One student was dehydrated, the other had a severe stomach ache and the other a toothache.  One by one we prayed for them and one by one God instantly healed them. 

As I finally made my way towards the muscians, three more leaders were approaching me with more sick students.  Just like the three before them, God instantly healed them one by one. Of those six students, there was one that I will never forget, Jasmine.

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Arguing with God

United States

It was a beautiful Sunday morning, as my friends and I were greeted at the door by the sweet sounds of southern hospitality.  The decor of the church reminded me of growing up in the ’80s where we slept soundly under the pews while the loud hell, fire, and brimstone preacher delivered his message.  Potluck smells filled our noses as we dreamed of the savory country fried chicken and gravy cooking in the cast-iron skillet for the church potluck following the service. 

Even as a visitor this particular day, I felt like I was at home.  The music refreshed my soul as we sung old hymns like, “Victory in Jesus, my Savior forever.” and “Oh, how He touched me and made me whole.”  If you needed prayer, then the altars were always open.  No invitation was needed and this morning was no different.  

Church members were met by the pastor and church leaders as they began to walk down the aisle.  I watched from the third row as more people filled the altars after the pastor’s invitation, “If you need anything from God today, come forward for prayer.”  

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a man moving slowly towards the front, for obvious reasons.  He was bent over at the waist at about a 45-degree angle and his face painted with pain and weakness.  Trying not to stare, I focused my gaze back on the members at the front of the church already receiving prayer.  Immediately I heard God say, “Khristina, I want you to pray for that man.”  

The conversation quickly ended with my response, “Lord, it’s okay, he will be prayed for by the pastor and church leaders. These people don’t know me.  If I walk up there and pray for that man in this old school, country church, that pastor may reign fire and brimstone down on me.”  

After a few minutes of chatting with my friend, I saw the man return to his seat in the same condition that he was in when he had slowly walked to the altar.   

I heard God say again, “Khristina, I want you to pray for that man.” 

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Alternate Identity

Hungary

I watched as the line of people in front of me grew longer and longer until it wrapped around the inside of these ancient church walls built in the 1800s.  They weren’t waiting to see me, but to experience healing from the Ancient of Days.  One by one, myself and a team of three Hungarian church members prayed for each person as God healed them of headaches, vision impairment, back pain, and other illnesses.  An hour had past when I looked up to see Marian.  She leaned heavily on a cane as she slowly walked towards us.

The interpreter explained how the pain was originating in the center of her left leg and went all the way up to her lower back. I asked if she would raise her slacks up so I could see for myself what she was sharing.  She agreed and what I saw before me was something I had never laid eyes on in my life.  From the center of her leg branched out multiple, deep, dark blue veins showing through her pantyhose. It looked like a New York subway mapped out on her pale skin. In complete awe of what my eyes beheld, I starred at her leg.  I had never seen veins protruding like they were forming an identity of their own.  

So I waited…not to allow more time for me to take in this site or to commit this moment to memory.  Not to think about what I would say next or contemplate whether God was big enough to heal this woman.  

I waited on the Lord.  

She waited.  

My interpreter waited.  

Fifty people waited in line behind her for prayer.  

We all stood awaiting the Lord’s instructions.  

Then….

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Hearing Me Softly

Guatemala

The midnight rain was the culprit for the muddy hillside we were hiking on this warm, humid morning.  Each step seemed like the last before we slid down the side of the steep mountainside, though it didn’t slow us down much.  Neither did the long skirt I had to wear for this journey, which kept getting in the way of using my hands for additional support.  The rain finally slowed as we soon reached the top and began to make our way through the tall grass and trees.  Our destination took us to a small humble abode of a 90-year-old man and his wife, Estuerdo and Evelyn.  

Myself, two American friends, and three Guatemalan friends were excited to see what God had planned for this couple.  The last two days were filled with miracles in more than 100 people. We saw God heal them of all kinds of sicknesses.  While reminiscing of God’s goodness, we explained to our Guatemalan friends, “when we reach this couples’ home, you will be the one to pray for them to receive healing. God can use you just as He can use us to lay hands on the sick and see them healed.  God does not show favor.” Romans 2:11

My heartbeat skipped as I stopped to take in the beauty of our Creator’s masterpiece before me.  Surely Estuerdo and Evenlyn would be billionaires with this prime real estate in any Western country located 140,000 feet above sea level and nothing but breathtaking mountainsides touched only by the sun.  

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The Art of Believing

Philippines

The humid, Philippines air flowed through the open window as I wiped the sticky, sweat from my face.  Good thing no one else was in the room to witness my slobber on the pillow.  I could hear the earthly sounds of crickets, roosters, and tropical leaves blowing in the wind.  Barely able to lift my head, I decided to stay for another moment gaining my strength and preparing for the gut-wrenching pain soon to overwhelm my body.  Exhaustion coupled with the tropical heat had not produced the relief I needed from this deep sleep.  Instead, I was faced with the reality that I may not be able to get out of this bed.  Just like most of humanity, my bladder wasn’t privy to the news of my back pain.  It was functioning just fine.  

Perhaps if I rolled out of the bed and used those fancy military maneuvers I saw on TV as a child, I could make it to the bathroom that was less than four feet from me.  Clinching the bed frame with all my strength, I pulled myself closer to the edge of the bed.  In a moment of relief, I thought to myself, using my wonder woman accent, “I can do this!  I will not let my bladder win this battle!”  Quickly, I started to arise in a sitting position, only to discover my wonder woman skills had failed me.  The excruciating pain took over my lower back and landed me on the wooden floor.  

How did this happen?  I’m young.  I haven’t participated in any risky behaviors lately, that I could remember.  I just woke up one morning with this pain that increasing began to take over my body moment by moment, day by day for the past two weeks.  I couldn’t bend over, sit down, or even walk.  

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