Tag Archives: prayer

blind woman healed

Hungary

The cool Hungarian night made me even more sleepy than the 1:00 am hour. Myself and three friends were celebrating while we walked to the car. The excitement was in awe of all we had just seen God perform in the church service.

The service began with 30 minutes of sharing stories of God healing others , then we spent the next four hours praying for people who needed healing. Seeing God heal people never gets old and it’s worth every ounce of exhaustion we were feeling in that moment.

Between the four of us, we had separately hosted healing services in over 30 countries. Jokingly, one of my friends asked me if I had ever seen a blind person healed? This particular friend was far more travelled than me and had not only seen a blind person healed, but also seen three dead people raised to life. Radical….I know, right? LOL!! That still happens today.

I had seen God heal eyes many times so people wouldn’t have to wear their prescription glasses anymore, but never a blind person healed. Perhaps if God would send a blind person, I would have the opportunity.

The following day, we returned to the church rested and ready for the second service. Two hours passed as people approached us one–by-one for healing prayer. Never did I think that a joking conversation would turn into reality this quick.

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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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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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