Beyond Imagination

A page devoted to the miraculous.

Below is the content of “Beyond Imagination”. Read and may your faith be strengthened.

Table of Contents
Chapter 1 Raised from Death – Body and Brain Healed
Chapter 2 Burned and Overdosed
Chapter 3 A Call in the Middle of the Night
Chapter 4 A Fire that Burned in the Night
Chapter 5 Exactly 21 Meteorites
Chapter 6 The Light of God Appeared
Chapter 7 Asthma and Allergies Healed
Chapter 8 Diseased Legs Healed Hours Before Amputation
Chapter 9 Massive Tumor Healed the Night Before Surgery
Chapter 10 Parkinson ’s disease Healed
Chapter 11 Stomach Cancer Healed
Chapter 12 Leprosy Healed
Chapter 13 Healed of Aids
Chapter 14 Paralyzed Eye Healed
Chapter 15 Broken Hand Healed
Chapter 16 Three Pound Tumor Healed ─ Another Spat-up
Chapter 17 Mangled Hand Restored
Chapter 18 A Festering Foot Surgery Wound Healed
Chapter 19 Alzheimer’s Healed
Chapter 20 Miracle Provision on the Last Day
Chapter 21 The Angelic Messenger
Chapter 22 Saved from Drowning
Chapter 23 A Newspaper in the Spirit
Chapter 24 An Angel in Our Midst
Chapter 25 God Fixes Cars Too
Chapter 26 Neck Injury Instantly Healed
Chapter 27 The Paper Peso and the Ankle
Chapter 28 Healed of Learning Disorders
Chapter 29 The Curled Toe and the Podiatrist
Chapter 30 A Shrunken Body Restored to Normal
Chapter 31 A Powerful Demoniac Delivered
Chapter 32 Authority Over the Storm
Chapter 33 Negro ─ The Anointed Dog
Chapter 34 The Selling of a House
Chapter 35 Pregnant after Nine Years of Trying
Chapter 36 Fifty Miracles
Chapter 37 Torn Achilles Tendon Instantly Healed
Chapter 38 Hypoglycemia Healed
Chapter 39 A New Thyroid
Chapter 40 Healed of Fibromyalgia and Crohn’s Disease
Chapter 41 Stage-4 Cancer Healed in a Houston Pastor’s Wife
Chapter 42 A Mysterious Neurological-Muscular Affliction Healed

Chapter 1

Author’s Note: I have always known that I was a missionary, though not necessarily in the traditional or accepted sense.

I spent several years in jail and prison ministry, back when it wasn’t the popular thing to do. Eventually God called us to the U.S./Mexico border to pastor. I left an incredible engineering job in Houston, and an assistant pastor’s position to take my family to the border and survive on an average of $35 per week for the first three years. We have never been afraid of or unwilling to sacrifice, and have done so often. My wife has given away furniture and homes and I have given secular positions that some would “die” for to follow the will of God. For this reason the baser elements of church politics and elected offices has never appealed to me, in spite of my capabilities.

What God accomplished was legendary, but most missionaries aren’t recognized, or in some cases respected by those who have never done it, unless someone is supporting them through an organization. Some of my dearest friends are credentialed missionaries and I esteem them highly, but God never allowed me the privilege of having supporting partners on the mission field. I eventually left a good church and daughter works on the border and in Mexico and a career job at a global manufacturing giant to begin another missionary endeavor; teaching and training church leaders and helping them develop their organizations. It has been rewarding, but sacrificial to follow the will of God to begin a ministry in a church environment that likes the word but not necessarily the practice of leadership. However, in all cases we have not merely survived, but thrived even against much spiritual and physical opposition. We have truly impacted principalities in high places.

Some of the secular skills the Lord has given me are not necessarily common among ministries. Everyone understands the minister who is a carpenter, accountant, Pipefitter, or similar secular profession. Very few people understand the corporate skills and opportunities God has given me, and therefore all too often totally misunderstand and misrepresent my motive. I have one motive only and that is to bless and propagate the Kingdom of God. I desire to be a servant leader. To do that God has not called me to walk in the norm and accepted, but to challenge and break paradigms that limit the potential of God’s people.

I have always been blessed with the ability to endure and overcome adversity. I’ve often joked that I am glad God did not call me to be a prize-fighter, because I would have probably died in the ring after refusing to give up to an adversary. However, as the stories you are about to read will reveal, I have not been exempted from catastrophe or challenge, but God is my victor in all cases.

On two separate occasions my life was taken from me. My body is still and always will be covered by the many scars of misfortune. On both occasions a prayer answering God resurrected me from death. The following two stories are but a glimpse into my personal testimony. This story accounts for the first such incident, and the second follows it.

Let me add this one last reminder . . . bad things really do happen to good people. The impact of what happens to you is determined by how you respond.

Raised from Death ─ Body and Brain Healed!

I was born November 10, 1954, from humble beginnings as the second son of Doyce and Billie Childs in the East Texas sawmill town of Jasper. My birth came at an inopportune time for the doctor. It delayed his departure on an out-of-town hunting trip. He vented his frustrations on my mother and me. In his haste, he seriously injured her. My head was damaged as he literally yanked me into the world with forceps. As soon as I was delivered, he stormed out and left us with nurses who cleaned up the carnage. When my father found out what had happened, he was ready to attack the doctor. Oddly, the man died in an automobile accident. My father never had an opportunity to settle the score, and for that I am thankful.
During my infancy, my parents relocated to Beaumont, Texas, for employment. In the summer of 1956, I became very ill. If not for God’s intervention, I would not have survived. The following testimony is recorded in my mother’s own words:

Signs of Fred’s illness began by him vomiting all at once and without any warning. He would wake up screaming during the night and having a high fever. I took him to Dr. Hennington several times and he would say it was a throat and ear infection and give him a penicillin shot and send him home. The shot must have helped the infection, because he would be better for a few days and then the same thing would flare up again.
One day, his fever went so high I felt like something was seriously wrong, and I didn’t want to take him back to Dr. Hennington so I carried him to Dr. J. McCall instead. He examined him and advised that he be admitted in to Martin DePoure’s Hospital in Beaumont. Initially, he intended to keep him overnight and give him fluids in his legs so he would not dehydrate from the high temperature.
They put him in a semi-private room, because we thought he would go home the next day when his fever went down. I was five month’s pregnant with my third child at the time. My mother, step-father and brother had come from Jasper to be with us during this ordeal. Doyce talked me into going home to get some rest because of the baby I was carrying. He assured me that all would be fine and that he would sit up with Fred through the night. Fred’s legs were swelling because of the fluids but I left that night thinking he would be OK in the morning.
We did not have a phone at home. We lived across the street from a service station ran by Mr. Eddie Collins. [The nearest telephone was at this station.] It was next to a bakery where Lamar University now stands. In the morning, Eddie came to the house with a message from my husband. I was told to get to the hospital as quickly as possible. Something had gone terribly wrong.
I was scared. I was forced to wait for my mother, who insisted on eating breakfast before leaving with me. When we arrived at the hospital I went immediately to Fred’s room where I had left him the night before. He was not there!
During the night, Fred apparently died. His father had fallen asleep in the chair next to his bed and was awakened by a gasping sound. Fred was curled into a fetal position. His eyes were rolled back and dark circles had formed beneath them. There was no breath, pulse, or heartbeat. The nurses who had been so faithful did not come when Doyce began to scream for help. In desperation, he fell across the bed in prayer unto the Lord. It was that prayer that brought life back into Fred’s body.
When my husband met me in the hall, he was crying so hard I could not understand him. I thought he said Fred was dead. It seemed as though my heart stopped and everything was swimming and turning black. Someone took hold of me and then informed me that Fred had gotten so sick they had placed him in a private room. When I walked into the room, I was unable to recognize my own child. I honestly thought it was not my baby who I had left only five hours before.
Fred was under an oxygen tent. He had dehydrated over eight pounds that night, and he was only nineteen months old! His fever was so high they had packed him in a tub of ice in a vain attempt to bring the fever down. They told us that the fever was too high and brain damage was inevitable.
Fred was white with huge black circles beneath his eyes. His hands were drawn up like he was deformed. He was in acute shock and simply stared as though he was horrified. They were giving him blood in one leg and fluid in the other through cut-downs in each ankle. His legs were swelled. I remember them telling me that with the cut-downs they would never again be able to use the veins in such a way because they had collapsed.
Fred stayed in this condition for three days. The doctors thought he would die at any moment. The nurses were actually Catholic nuns, and they were very sweet to us. They sought our permission and we allowed them to place a pin on him that they place on dying people who are given Last Rites. We relented because they were so sweet and so concerned. We had already dedicated him to God at the church and did not personally believe this would make any difference, but we respected their sincerity.
They administered a blood transfusion using B-positive blood. Fred’s blood type is B-negative. They did not want to admit the mistake they had made, but I checked the empty bag myself and saw the B-positive label. The next bag they replaced it with was the proper B-negative. When I confronted them, they admitted their mistake. This mistake could have killed a healthy person, and my baby was not healthy. He then had a serious allergic reaction to the incorrect blood transfusion.
After the third day, and because he was still alive, they decided to X-ray him. Dr. McCall said the X-ray showed a bowel obstruction and the only hope was surgery. He also stated that, because the baby was so weak, none of the doctors expected him to survive the surgery. They had no choice but to operate if he would have any chance at all. We approved the surgery.
Dr. McCall called in a team of the best doctors and surgeons in Beaumont. Dr. K. Miller, Dr. E. Beck, and Dr. Erhard performed the surgery as a team. Their report was not good.
They reported that Fred’s appendix had been ruptured for so long that it had turned hard as a rock. When it burst, it became dislodged and dislocated, wrapping around his intestines. It was not on the side where the appendix is normally located and the doctors had to make the incision much larger in order to remove it. His body cavity, stomach and intestines had gangrene as a result of the infection. They removed a big ball of obstruction from the intestine. Although they never told us exactly what it was, they did say that it had his intestine completely blocked off. They also said that his intestines were completely twisted up, and they had to remove so much that, even if he lived, he would have trouble for life.
While Fred was in surgery, his daddy was praying. He said that he saw a cross and it was at that time that he acknowledged his call to preach the gospel.
Fred miraculously survived the surgery, but it was over two weeks before he could be given anything by mouth. Death was expected at anytime. He was fed intravenously through the cut-downs until they became unusable due to the collapsed vessels. He cried and begged for food, water, coffee, and everything he saw. Once, his grandmother forgot and walked into the room eating a piece of candy and Fred just cried and cried for it.
The doctor’s labeled him “Little Tarzan” because he was so tough and had such a will to live. But, all was still not well. The doctors said that, because Fred had so many stitches in his intestines, they expected them to grow together. If that happened, they would have to operate again because it would form another blockage. They informed us of the symptoms that we should watch for.
The doctors let us take the baby home with instructions to call if anything recurred or if his fever escalated again. They expected the infection was still in his body and, with the stitches in his intestines, he would get sick again. It was likely he would die as a result.
Three days later, it all happened again. His fever returned. He could not even drink water because it would come back up immediately. I called the doctor and he said for me to bring the baby to the hospital as soon as possible. I had to wait for his daddy to get home from work. After that, we would take him to the hospital where they would again perform surgery on Fred.
I called our pastor, Rev. R.D. Gibson of Beaumont. My mother, Dorothy, along with relatives Sonny and Gerline met with Doyce and me for prayer at our house. His daddy and I simply could not stand to see him suffer any more. With all a mother’s heart, I thanked God for my child, and for the nineteen months God had allowed me to have him. I placed him on the altar and gave him back to Jesus. I prayed for the Lord to take him here at home if He was going to take him, but please don’t let him go back to the hospital and be cut on again. It was simply more than I could bear. It must have been a similar prayer to the one prayed by Abraham when he was willing to sacrifice his son at the altar. That is what we did. I know I meant it with all of my heart. I placed him completely in God’s hands, and proved it by not taking him back to the hospital.
I knew the next morning would either bring life or death. When I checked him, he was still alive! His little diaper was filled with nothing but stitches! Every stitch in his body was now in that diaper, and nothing else but stitches!
That was the night God healed Fred and he has been normal ever since.
His mind was also healed. God has gifted him with a phenomenal mind, and he now holds a Ph.D. Physically, he has suffered no problems with his intestines in his lifetime. He bears the scars as a testimonial, but Jesus healed the damage.

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Chapter 2

Author’s Note: My dad was asked to be the assistant pastor at the Beaumont church. He declined, choosing instead to start a church in the East Texas town of Jasper. Revival broke out and the crowds came. People always told me dad was the best preacher they ever heard.

As growth came, he was advised to affiliate the church with a particular denomination. He did so without first becoming credentialed. The organization then called for a business meeting and forced a pastoral election. Dad won every vote but one, and that was an old farmer he had won to the Lord and who later apologized and said he was just confused and didn’t want to vote against the authorities.

Sadly the attitudes of the District officials were so bad that dad became disgusted with what he termed “their lack of character, prayer, spirituality”. After he won the election, he resigned the church rather than join the organization. It was the greatest mistake he ever made. Certainly the organizational officials committed an injustice and harmed a precious man’s ministry, but dad should have stood his ground for the work of the Lord. He should have either applied for and received credentials through the organization, or disaffiliated the church. After he resigned they placed the new pastor in and soon the church came to naught.

My dad became so discouraged at his mistake that he quit attending church. Trials came, and one of those great trials involved me.

Here is another story of how God’s will for my life was bigger than my circumstances. Again, death had no hold over the prayers of God’s people.

Burned and Overdosed!

In the days before recycling trucks, my older brother was burning leaves and debris in a large oil barrel on the edge of our yard. I wanted to help also but I was too short to see over the top. I had watched them pour gasoline on the fire to keep it lit and I tried to do the same. I splashed gas everywhere, even on myself. Again, in my mother Billie’s words:

At the age of six, Fred was seriously burned by gasoline that poured upon his body as it exploded. He suffered massive third degree burns (and beyond) over his chest and stomach area. His face and arms were burned also, but fortunately those areas were mostly first and second degree burns. When admitted to the hospital, he was overdosed by different nurses as they administered sedatives [during a shift change] to bring him out of acute shock. His suffering was horrific, but he survived. We believe prayer delivered him from death.
There was a long period of time when we would take him daily to therapy. It was more akin to torture. They would strap him to a stainless steel stretcher and lower him into a whirlpool bath of chemicals to kill the infection. The physical therapist would then remove the layers of gauze wrapped around his body. Fred would just scream as the layers were ripped loose, skin and all. Then, they would scrape the surface clean. Afterwards, they would return him to his room and re-wrap him. The first layers were dipped in a sterilizing solution. Fred would scream until he passed out over and over again.
Finally, doctors performed a skin graft by removing skin from his legs. He was strapped down and unable to move at all for six weeks. If he moved, the skin might tear loose and not take. His only entertainment was shooting the paper covers off of drinking straws. We and the nurses would reload his straw weapon over and over thousands of times. He endured.
The skin grafts left him drawn forward and bent over but he overcame that too. He would soak in long baths every day, and I would rub his body down with olive oil to soften the skin so it would stretch. He would stand and try to press his back against a wall, crying because of the pain and frustration but eventually he was able to stand up straight again.
A few years later, Doyce and I divorced. Our little family saw many sad and painful years and experiences. Things that impacted and hurt Fred are perhaps too painful to place within this book, and also beyond its scope. But this small history is placed here as a testimonial to a loving God. God healed Fred from death, pain and sickness, and delivered him from the very things that sought so hard to destroy him. God has used him greatly, and that is another miracle worth mentioning in this book.

Chapter 3

Author’s Note: When I was a young boy my parent’s divorced, and my heart was broken. Dad didn’t want the divorce but was given no choice. We were five little children, and times were very sad and difficult. We saw many tragedies and endured many hardships. I can’t write of specifics in order to honor the feelings of my family members; however all of us were deeply scarred. We three oldest boys all began working as children. We had to work hard, as did both of our parents. A lot of my childhood was spent cleaning house, cooking, cleaning the yard, and babysitting my younger siblings. My first full-time paying job was working six days a week (during the summers) and after school during the year as the only employee of a full-service gasoline station at the age of thirteen.

Even when we weren’t going to church, my dad prayed and studied his bible more than most pastors do. I was often awakened in the late hours of the night to his crying and prayers, “Jesus, please give me the strength and grace this day to raise my babies. Lord just let me get through one more day.” He was such an example of a hard-working and good man who devotedly loved his children.

My family members attended church off and on over the years, but the most consistent and devoted was my older brother Allen. He had a most unique walk with the Lord, and was uniquely gifted to see and experience the supernatural. I am convinced that I am alive today because of his amazing intercession in my hour of need.

As for me, I spent time being a teenager, and although I loved God there were only a few years when I attended church at all. During those wayward years the Lord continued to cover me with His mercy. The following story had an impact far beyond even my own understanding, and was a key event used by the Lord to orientate my steps on a gradual path toward Him.

A Call in the Middle of the Night

This is perhaps one of the strangest things I have ever experienced. There is no doubt in my mind that the intercession of my brother, Allen, and the supernatural intervention of God saved me from death one night in early 1976.
I moved into a nice brick home in the City of South Houston about three months prior to my marriage to Monica. From the very beginning, I thought the house was haunted. I know now that it was inhabited by evil spirits, but at that time I wasn’t living for God and was unaware of what was causing the strange, supernatural events. The prior tenants had hastily vacated the place because of terrifying things that had occurred inside it.
One night, I awoke at 3:30 AM from a sound sleep. I was in utter terror, unlike anything I had ever experienced before. I was so scared that I could not even catch my breath. I knew I was about to die. Something was in the house. It was coming after me. I was literally paralyzed with fear. In my mind I prayed, Oh God, I don’t want to die. I am lost. Please have mercy on me Jesus. Please help me.”
I had no weapon. Still frozen, my every sense was on high alert. That is when the phone rang! It was only a foot or so from my head, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. My hand shot out for the receiver. Breathless with trembling voice, I answered it during the first ring. “Hello,” I managed.
“Fred, were you awake when I called?” asked my brother, Allen.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Allen, I just woke up. Something is in my home. I have never been so scared in all of my life.”
“Fred, you are in danger. I asked the Lord that, if this was of Him, then wake you up so you would be awake when I called” he explained.
“I’m so afraid Allen. I’ve never felt like this.”
Allen explained, “I was awakened by a voice calling to me for help. Fred, it was your voice! It called to me in the night. I awoke and was groggy enough that I went back to sleep. But then I was awakened again. It was your voice, but it was louder this time. It said that you were in danger and needed my help. This time I was clearly awake, and there was a small man standing at the foot of my bed. He was looking at me. As I looked at him he disappeared. I knew he was an angel so I began to pray. God, if Fred is in trouble, let him be awake when I call.”
“I was asleep Allen. But I just now woke up. Please pray, please,” I cried. Suddenly, Allen began to pray in the authority of the Name of Jesus. He bound the spirits of evil that had come against me. It was a powerful prayer. I was praying too, but it was his prayer that broke the spirit that night.
Suddenly, he stopped. “Fred, did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” I breathed into the phone.
“Fred, it is a little time after 3:30 in the morning and there is a rooster crowing outside my window right now! That has never happened before,” he said.
At that very moment, just a few feet from me, coming from the darkness, as loud as if it were being blasted through a P.A. system, a wolf howled! It was a long, complete, blood-curdling wolf howl. It was just like from a scene in a horror movie. Whatever it was howled and fled.
There are no wolves loose in the City of South Houston, but there was something so vicious there in my home that night that it howled like a wolf. A wolf is a stalker, a predator, a killer. Whatever was in the darkness was evil, horrible, and real.
But God had an intercessor that night, and I am convinced that his sensitivity to the Spirit spared my life.
James 5:16 says, “The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.”
Thank you Jesus ─ and Allen too!

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Chapter 4

Author’s Note: Although I loved and believed in God all of my life, I came to truly know God in 1980, as Monica and I were both born-again on the evening of January 31. We acquired many friends in the church, and the routine of prayer and fellowship became a way of life for us. We developed prayer partners, and among them were my own two brothers, Allen and Joel.

So as not to disturb anyone, Allen preferred to pray in isolated areas outside of the city, and on several occasions Joel and I joined him. There was more to it than just the thrill of the outdoors; there was a supernatural anointing that we seldom felt anywhere else. Many times our eyes were opened to see spiritual manifestations and phenomena. The following story illustrates this clearly.

A Fire that Burned in the Night

One night we were praying together in a large field just outside of Beaumont, Texas in an area called Hildebrandt, not too far from a large bayou of the same name. It was a sparsely populated area, and we were a significant distance from any houses or businesses.
The night was very clear. As we prayed, Joel said he felt like God was about to show us something supernatural, and he asked us to look toward the heavens. As we looked skyward something began happening behind us. The field began to glow brightly. We could see our long shadows stretch before us as a bright light began to shine from behind. Everything in the field was brightly illuminated. What was once in darkness was now in light. We called upon the name of Jesus Christ, commanding that, if it not be of Him, it must depart. The light grew and we felt presence of the Lord intensely.
I started to turn around when, suddenly, Joel grabbed my arm and said, “Don’t turn around … remember Lot’s wife!” I did not turn completely around because of Joel’s reaction.
I laugh about it now, but in our naïveté this made perfect sense. It was very real and unrehearsed.
I had turned only far enough to see flames! A great supernatural manifestation appeared as a burning fire immediately behind us! It was very large and not far from where we were standing. We felt the extreme presence of the Lord. There was no heat such as an earthly fire would put out. It was raging silently with none of the crackle or hiss I would have expected to hear. We stood with our backs to the blaze and praised the Lord for quite some time. The heavenly presence was overwhelming. Then, as though someone was turning down the flame of a giant lantern, the light began to dissipate and was gone.
As the normal darkness of night overtook us, we searched the field behind us. No singed grass or smoke smell. There were no signs of fire or any earthly cause or source for such an occurrence.
All three of us had the exact same experience. This was markedly similar to the fiery appearances in the Bible. When God appeared to Moses in the burning bush, the bush was not consumed. I shall never forget the night I stood in a barren field and basked in a light that was not of this world.

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Chapter 5

Author’s Note: I placed this testimony in this book because many believer’s today are unaware, or would have trouble believing, that God does perform signs and wonders even in the heavens. He still does!

Exactly 21 Meteorites!

On another occasion, Allen, Joel and I had gone into the great outdoors to worship God under the heavenly canopy of stars. This was always an exhilarating experience for us, and such a special way to spend quality time with God and each other. In the secluded outdoors we would not be interrupted by slamming doors or telephones. In surroundings like these it seemed far easier to communicate with the Creator.
It was a moonless night. The sky above was crystal clear and the stars were shining brilliantly. We were in a large open field off Highway 96 about six miles south of Jasper, Texas. Suddenly, Allen stopped Joel and me and with great emotion he instructed us to look up into a specific area of the sky. He said he had requested the Lord to do something for him. As a sign of confirmation for a prayer he believed God was going to answer, he had petitioned the Lord to allow us to see 21 meteorites in a specific portion of the heavens. He said he believed God was about to do that very thing.
We stood gazing skyward only a few moments when a bright meteorite flashed across the very portion of the heavens where Allen was pointing at! We were elated to say the least. Still pointing with his finger, he reminded us to not take our eyes off of that portion of the sky. As we stood there in awe and giving God praise, all three of us counted aloud as 21 meteorites flashed across that exact section of the atmosphere! Each was bright and clear and they came one at a time.
The Bible endorses signs, wonders and miracles in the heavens. Even modern science has proven several of these Biblical accounts to be true.
Interesting proof of these Bible accounts came as a result of the space program. Bob Gooding hosts (or once hosted) a program entitled “Contact 8”, sponsored by Channel 8 News, WFAA-TV in Dallas/Fort Worth, Texas. The following is quoted from his subsequent article entitled, The Missing Day.
The space scientists in Green Belt, Maryland,

“. . . were trying to determine the position of the sun, moon and planets 100 years and 1000 years from now. In order to do this they had to plot the orbits through past centuries.

They ran the computer measurement back and forth over the centuries and suddenly it came to a halt. The computer signaled that there was something wrong either with the information fed into it or with the results compared to the standards. They called in the service department to check it out and found nothing technically wrong. The computer still came up with the same discrepancy … a day was missing in space in elapsed time. The scientists were dumbfounded. There was no answer.

One of the team remembered a reference to the sun standing still in the Bible. Upon checking they found in the Book of Joshua a pretty “ridiculous” statement for anybody who has common sense. According to the scripture, Joshua was concerned because he was surrounded by the enemy and if darkness fell they would overpower him, so Joshua asked the Lord to make the sun stand still. “So the sun stood still in the midst of the heaven, and hasted not to go down about a whole day.” (Joshua 10:13) There was the missing day!

They checked the computers going back to the time it was written and found it was close but not close enough. The elapsed time that was missing back in Joshua’s day was 23 hours and 20 minutes … not a whole day. They again read the passage and there it said, “about (approximately) a whole day”. This still did not account for the other missing 40 minutes. The 40 minutes had to be found because in projecting spatial orbits it would be multiplied many times over.

Again the man remembered somewhere in the Bible that it said the sun went backwards. In 2nd Kings, Chapter 20, Hezekiah, on his deathbed, was visited by the prophet Isaiah who told him that he was not going to die. Hezekiah did not believe him, and asked for a sign as proof. Isaiah said, “ … shall a shadow go forward ten degrees, or go back ten degrees?” Hezekiah replied, It is a light thing for the shadow to go down ten degrees; nay, but let the shadow return backward ten degrees.” (2 Kings 20:9-10) Ten degrees is exactly 40 minutes!

Twenty-three hours and twenty minutes in Joshua, plus forty minutes in 2 Kings make-up the missing twenty-four hours the space travelers had to log in the logbook as being the missing day in the universe.” 1

Acts 2:19 declares, “And I will shew wonders in heaven above, and signs in the earth beneath … “
I count myself blessed to have personally witnessed the power and capability of God to orchestrate signs in the heavens at the prayerful request of one of His children.

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Chapter 6

Author’s Note: The supernatural is more real than we can comprehend.

The Light of God Appeared!

I awoke one Monday morning with an intense desire to pray. The burden was so strong that I took the day off from work from Stubbs and Overbeck Engineering in Beaumont, Texas and decided to spend the day at the church in prayer. I called Ronald, my prayer partner, and asked him if there was any way he could meet with me for prayer. He was scheduled for the evening shift on his job and agreed to meet with me at the church.
We met in the little brick building that was the original church on Blackmon Lane in Beaumont, Texas. We felt this would be more private for us than at the new church next door where people were apt to come and go.
The little brick building had no windows. When the doors were shut and the lights were off it was completely dark inside for there was no source for natural light to penetrate the building. Upon entering the building we turned the light on in the hallway and locked the entry door. We then entered the sanctuary to pray. The double doors between the sanctuary and the hallway had two small diamond shaped windows. We decided this was enough light for us and we settled into a season of prayer.
Several hours of fervent prayer passed quickly. I was kneeling at the front pew, and as I opened my eyes I saw the light turn off in the hallway. Immediately a spirit of great fear gripped me, and I felt the dark presence of evil in a strong way. I began to call out to Ronald in the darkness, “Do you feel it? Do you feel that evil presence? Something terrible just entered this building.” I must admit that it happened so quickly I was taken by surprise, and I was utterly terrified. I tried to pray as the light went on and off several times, and the presence of evil became stronger and stronger. The light finally remained off.
I felt my way over to my prayer partner, and told him what I was feeling. He was silent. We joined hands and I began rebuking the spirit of darkness that had invaded our prayer meeting. I am not ashamed to admit that even though I was rebuking the evil presence I was utterly terrified at this point. Holding his hand and praying fearfully we walked down the isle toward the sanctuary doors. I was afraid because of the evil presence I was feeling, and because we could see absolutely nothing. It was utterly black. Slowly we made our way to the front door. I flipped the light switch but it did not work. The light refused to shine. As we unlocked the door and stepped outside Ronald began to speak for the first time. He was choking, and he explained how that from the moment the lights went out and I started speaking that an evil spirit began choking him and he could not speak.
It is amazing how just a little light makes things seem so different. We stood there in the open door and actually discussed going home. I then said to him, “God must have a great victory for us if the devil is trying so hard to run us off. Why don’t we go back in and walk up and down the length of this church until we break this thing and see what God has for us? Let’s have a victory march, like the walls of Jericho march!”
We opened the front door as wide as it would open and began our march. I must admit that fear still gripped us both, and it continued for a number of trips to the front of the church and back to the door. Each time we became a little bolder, but the evil presence remained very real and strong. It was definitely fighting us in a very real way. The heaviness, oppression and fear were overwhelming. Our only courage and source of strength was in the Spirit and Name of the Lord Jesus.
As we turned to go back toward the altar for the seventh time, just before we reached the double doors to the sanctuary the front door slammed shut behind us! We were in utter blackness again. The evil presence rose to its peak level. As we began to push open the doors to the sanctuary the evil presence suddenly departed  we actually felt it leave! There was an actual whooshing sound as it fled completely.
Instantly things began to brighten. It was as though a rheostat was being turned on. The presence of God swept in like a flood. We began to sing and praise in the Spirit. We danced with all of our hearts, and for how long I cannot tell. At first I saw myself and Ronald dancing in the light, until it became too bright to comprehend. It passed the ability to see, and it completely absorbed everything, including me. There was only light. I remember putting my hands in front of my eyes and yet the brightness was too bright to see my hands. I was as one with the light, because I could distinguish nothing else. I even closed my eyes and the brightness would not dim. It was a purer bright white than I can possibly describe. There is nothing in my repertoire of earthly experiences to compare it to. The light was brighter than the sun  and we were immersed in its radiant glory! It was precious, pure, cleansing, holy, painless, and absolutely penetrating.
After some time, how long I do not know, the light began to dissipate. I could see my prayer partner dancing and praising God, and noticed the front door was open again. I remember screaming, “Please God, don’t take your presence away from us. Please stay”. Then suddenly it was gone. At that point the lights came back on in the hallway. We both had and saw the exact same experience.
Later I tried to convey to my wife what had happened, and words simply failed me to describe the glory of what I saw and felt. I called my pastor to tell him of our experience. He said, “You saw the presence of the Lord”. I asked him if he had ever seen the same thing, to which he replied, “Oh yes, many times”.
I cannot perceive a light so bright, and yet it felt so wonderful. No eye pain was associated with it whatsoever. Also what was unique was the way the light came and went. It was as though it simply filled everything and became brighter and eventually became dimmer. It did not lift or swoop away, but it simply replaced everything and then slowly allowed everything to replace it again. I can honestly say that I understand what happened to Saul on the road to Damascus, for it was brighter than the noonday sun. There were no aftereffects, blindness or spots such as a bright light would cause.

Chapter 7

Author’s Note: There are illnesses we take for granted; often forgetting that God can heal anything for anyone at anytime. Nothing should ever be taken for granted for by His stripes we are healed.

Asthma and Allergies Healed!

Soon after the birth of our second child, Brooke, she began to manifest problems with severe allergies and asthma. The severity began to increase until we finally had to seek medical assistance. The breathing medications and devices were incredibly expensive. In spite of doing everything we could do, she just seemed to get worse with time. We would have to wash and work with her eyes every morning just so she could open them, because a thick crust would form over them and seal them shut.
Her healing was very unique and I felt it worthy to be placed in this book.
I had a little place in the attic where I would often go and pray. I called it “The Upper Room”. It was there in earnest prayer when the Lord spoke into my heart that He was going to heal her. I told Monica and we rejoiced and began to praise the Lord in advance for doing the work.
The church was in an extended revival. Every night the services were just fantastic. There were tremendous moves of God, many people were saved, and numerous others were prayed for and claimed their healing. We went to every service and I expected each one to be the night our daughter would be healed. But every time I would start to take her to be anointed and prayed for the Spirit of God would let me know that it wasn’t God’s time.
God was teaching me several tremendous lessons.

 God cannot be rushed. There is a time for everything, and a key to our success is to wait on the Lord as we praise Him in anticipation.
 God is not to be ruled by our emotions. Every time that I would want to take my daughter before the church for prayer it would always be a highly emotional time in the service. God doesn’t need our emotions as much as we seem to need them.
 God can do it anytime. He doesn’t need any props or fanfare. He is at all times ultimately capable of all things.

The revival had continued for a number of weeks, and with each service it just seemed to get better and better. But then came the night that we had the first truly dead service of the revival. Spiritually, musically, and emotionally it was a dud. I couldn’t get into the service at all, and it seemed that nobody else could either. It was at one of the quietest parts of the service when the Lord spoke to me, “Now is the time.”
I immediately turned to my wife and told her the time had come for our daughter to be healed. We took her and our son to the front and told the pastor and requested prayer for our daughter. I told him I knew she would definitely be healed when we pray over her. She was anointed with oil and we prayed in the Name of Jesus.
There was no great sense of spiritual power. The earth did not quake, lightning did not flash, and there was no audible voice that spoke from heaven. It was just a sincere prayer for a little sick girl. But there was no doubt in our hearts that she was healed. We returned home that night with a calm assurance.
The very next morning was the first morning that Brooke did not have to have her little eyes and nose cleared. She was healed!

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Chapter 8

Author’s Note: Some of the greatest miracles I have witnessed occurred when it was inconvenient for me, and when I went out of my way to serve as unto the Lord.

Diseased Legs Healed Hours before Amputation!

It happened in a tiny house in a barrio in old Mexico. I walked into the room where only a few people were standing. On the bed was a little man whose diseased legs had become unusable. Diabetes had brought him to the point that amputation was the only remaining medical alternative. Gangrene had set in. If he survived the night, the ambulance would pick him up early the next morning and take him to the hospital. There they would remove his legs at the hips.
Such was the fate of a poor man and a desperate woman in a barrio home.
Only then in desperation had they called upon the preacher to come and pray. The man wasn’t a member of my church family, but he was reaching out in desperation. It is strange how in times like that the people know who to call when they really need something real from God.
We gathered around his humble little bed and called on the name of the Lord. There was an assurance there. We had a trusting knowledge that God was doing the work even as we spoke the words of faith. We praised God as though it was already done. It was fervent and effective, but it wasn’t the most powerful of prayers, nor was any of us that were present singularly pointed out as being uniquely gifted or special. The only one being honored was the One who had borne stripes for this man’s healing. The name of Jesus Christ was invoked. We praised God for healing this man even as the healing virtue came.
Minutes later we were in my Jeep ready to return home to the United States. His little wife stood crying at the doorway next to her miraculously healed husband. He was exuberant! I can still see him jumping up and down, praising God, thanking us for coming, and inviting us to return again to his home in the future. God had healed his legs completely! One minute he was full of infection and uncertainty, and the next he was healed miraculously by the power of the Holy One of glory.
God still visits humble little homes in faraway barrios.

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Chapter 9

Author’s Note: I love the following testimony because it takes the wind out of the sails of those who think God can only use people like them. The truth is that God can still use anybody today just as easily as He used a donkey to speak to a prophet in the Old Testament. My dad used to tell the story of a pastor’s wife in East Texas who was healed by the prayer of a total alcoholic, after she had not been healed when hundreds of preachers and children of God prayed for her. It was a lesson in humility. This story is just as amazing, and I am thankful I was there.

Massive Tumor Healed the Night before Surgery!

I had noticed for several services that Maria had not been present. She was faithful, and I was concerned. She was a single mother who was raising her children alone. She lived in a barrio, and life was not easy for her and her three small children.
When we left service that night I began to maneuver the Jeep through the rocky and treacherous roads toward home. Out of the dark came some small children. They were calling to me in Spanish, “Pastor Childs”. They were Maria’s children. I stopped to talk. “Mother is very sick. She wants you to come and pray for her. She is having surgery tomorrow.” This was unexpected news to me. I asked them to climb into the Jeep and guide me to her home. I had never been there, and knew I could never find it without their help.
The barrio was a poor area. It had no electricity, water, or sewage facilities. Ninety percent of the people in this area lived in houses made of cardboard, tin, or scrap wood. It is not the kind of area that many success-oriented preachers would care to enter, because it represents what so many would call the failures of life.
I felt honored to be there.
Her cardboard home was very modest. The roof was made from a few sheets of tin. It consisted of one room. In the room stood a small curio cabinet, a tiny propane stove, and a bed. The floor was dirt, but her house was clean and reflected a pride in ownership. She was a better woman than her circumstances allowed. She was better than the husband who had abandoned her and her children. On the bed was Maria, and she looked very sick. Her children entered into the room and were standing beside her bed. Mario, my interpreter, entered with me.
Mario was a very good man, but not so dependable in every Christian way. He would miss church quite often, and did not pay tithe and seldom gave in the offering. He had real trouble with an unruly wife, and therefore with his children. He was, however, a very good and dependable interpreter. God really used him in this gift area. He had received the Holy Ghost and been baptized under our ministry. In summary, he was a good man, but a man that in most churches would not have qualified for ministry. Due to his shortcomings he probably would never have been called to come to the front, stand with the pastor and elders, and pray for the sick. But he stood with me many nights by my side and ministered in areas where you could not pay most preachers to go. I know God honored him, and that was all that mattered to me.
It was terribly hot that night, still well over 100 degrees. As I walked through the door, Maria began to cry and praise the Lord for sending me. What she said actually frightened me. She was saying, “Pastor Childs, Pastor Childs, I just knew that if you could come, and you would pray for me, that I would be healed.”
This frightened me because she was placing her faith in me, and calling my name more than the name of Jesus Christ! I want no part of the praise that only He deserves. I have shed blood for nobody’s sins or diseases.
She had developed a tumor, larger than an egg, at the base of her skull. As she turned her head I was repulsed at the sight of this hideous thing. She told us that the doctors had said that it was attached to her spine, and that they had to operate immediately. It was growing very rapidly. She informed us that she was being taken to the city of Piedras Negras the following morning, and the doctors there would perform surgery tomorrow. At this time she did not know if it was malignant, but the doctors had warned her that there was a high possibility of paralysis following the surgery.
She was frightened. “Who will take care of my babies?” she asked. “But I knew that if Pastor Childs came and prayed that I would be healed”, she added. That continued to frighten me.
I then did an unusual thing. I told her that I would not anoint her, nor would I place my hands upon her. I reminded her that I was only a servant of the Lord, and that God alone was the healer. I then turned to Mario and told him, “So that she may see that the power is of God and not of any particular man, please anoint her, and pray for her that she might be healed.”
I wanted no part of God’s glory. Mario took the oil from my hand and began to anoint Maria. He prayed earnestly for her, placing his hands upon the tumor itself. He became so anointed. He spoke powerfully in tongues. I prayed too, but from a short distance behind him. Maria began to sweat profusely, speaking in tongues and crying out to the Lord. We actually left her home with her praising and enjoying the sweet presence of God.
As we walked out the front door I was intending to tell Mario, “Well, the presence of God was there. If God healed her, we’ll know about it later.” I never got that far. As I said the words, “If God healed her …” Mario stopped me. He was ecstatic. “No Brother Childs. There is no if to it! God did heal her. I felt it. I know that God healed her.” We praised God all the way home.
The very next church service Maria was in church again, and praising the Lord as was her usual custom. I asked her to testify. As she related the whole story to the church, she ended by saying, “I wasn’t even aware that they had left. Eventually I placed my hand behind my neck to thank God for removing the tumor, and as I did so I noticed that the tumor was no longer there. I had received a miracle of instantaneous healing.” No surgery was required the next day.
When God alone gets the glory, He is free to do the work. He can use any vessel that He chooses. How many times do we hinder him by leaving the saints in the pew, while only the pastor or a few elders anoint and pray for the sick? I know the biblical procedure according to the book of James, but have we allowed it to become simply a ritual in our services? Who gets the glory, God or man? Have you found your church wondering where the miracles are?
Maria had prayed and believed, but her deliverance came not through a particular man but through a faithful and merciful God of her salvation.

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Chapter 10

Author’s Note: This story covers the account one of the most incredible dilemmas I have ever encountered. Truly God delivered me in this instance, and taught me some wonderful insights about His healing ability.

Parkinson’s Disease Healed Seven Days after the Prophecy!

I closed the door the car, adjusted the Bible and study material under my arm, straightened my tie, and walked to the door of the house. The front of the house was on a slope, so as I stood on the top step I was actually looking up at whoever would answer the door. Soon after knocking I was greeted by the man of the house. He was holding his Bible across his chest, and was peering down at me through half-moon bifocals that were perched on the end of his nose.
“Hello,” I began. “I am Pastor Fred Childs. I was invited to come to this address. I understand that you are interested in a home Bible study?” I questioned, as I also called him respectfully by his last name.
Friends had spoken to me and referred me to this elderly couple. She had been bed-ridden for ten years with Parkinson’s disease, rheumatoid arthritis, and a few other maladies.
His response to my introduction was rather unique. It started on his front step as I looked up at him, and continued through the house and into her bedroom. She was very frail, and to look at her certainly was not inspiring any supernatural faith in me.
“My wife and I have been to every charismatic church in the Dallas, Texas area. Every one of their leading preachers has prayed for her healing. She has not been healed. I took her to the healing crusade of a very famous Roman Catholic healing priest. Thousands people were there, and hundreds were healed, yet my wife was not healed.” He named numerous celebrity televangelists and others who had personally prayed for her, “And she still has not been healed. We speak regularly to the 700 Club, the PTL Club, and others. She is on their prayer lists, and she has not been healed.”
He continued to catalog the vast number of people and ministries that had prayed for his wife, and yet he repeated again and again that in spite of all of the prayer she was none the better. He went to great length and called out many more famous names of renowned preachers. As he came to a conclusion, he lowered his glasses to the very end of his nose, looked over them and peered at me, and with a sincere challenge asked, “Now young man, just what do you have to offer my wife that these others could not offer?”
Before I could even think the Holy Ghost fell on me. I was amazed as the Spirit of God forcefully spoke through my lips, saying, “Had your wife been healed, she would have believed their lies and been damned. But to show you that my true servant has come to reveal to you the words of truth and salvation, behold, in seven days your wife will be healed. If she is not healed in seven days, then you are to stand in his pulpit and tell his church that he is a false prophet. But because he is my servant of truth, she will be healed in seven days, saith the Lord.”
I was shocked. He was flabbergasted. I was scared. He was dumbfounded. I was shaking. He was incredulous. I believed.
He wasn’t convinced.
He lowered his glasses even lower, and slowly said, “Young man, that is a mighty big limb you just crawled out upon!”
I knew for certain that God had spoken through me. There was no way that I would ever be ignorant enough to make such a statement. I replied to him, “No sir, I am not on a limb at all. The Lord just spoke prophetically to you today. With your permission, I intend to teach you and your wife a Bible study and reveal to you all of the truth that I can, because in seven days God is going to heal your wife. To verify the same, I am inviting you to my church anytime after seven days, and I will allow you the freedom to say anything you want uninterrupted, including that I am a false prophet if such proves to be the case.”
If nothing else he was impressed at my unique and bold approach, which I readily admit was totally orchestrated by the Lord. To this day I believe it was not unlike the Spirit of God that moved upon the prophets of old as they spoke things to kings that no man in his right mind would normally say.
We had the Bible study. At the conclusion I asked him if I could return tomorrow for lesson number two. “Tomorrow?” he asked. “Yes sir,” I replied, “After all I only have seven days.” I returned almost daily to teach as much as I possibly could to this couple.
I revealed to my church family exactly what had happened. They believed God with me, and we were praising God in advance for what we believed He would do. I was determined to stand simply upon the Word of God. The days rolled by.
At that time we only had around twenty people in the church, and we had only been in town a short while. I did not need to run anybody off.
We were scheduled to have our very first revival the following week. This relieved me because I was going to have an evangelist to help me out of this predicament that the Lord had gotten me into. The first night of the revival was night number six after my initial visit to the home of this couple. At 4 PM that afternoon the evangelist called with apologies that he simply could not make it to be with me. He cancelled my first revival as a host pastor!
Panicking as only I can, I asked my wife, “What am I supposed to do?” She said to me that she felt it to be the will of God that I preach this revival. Not being satisfied, I called my original Pastor. I needed to hear from God! When I asked him what was I supposed to do, he replied, “Bro. Fred, it is the will of God for you to preach your own revival.”
Well there is nothing like hearing from God to bolster one’s confidence.
I shifted into emergency praying mode and prepared to preach the first night of my first church revival as a pastor. Shortly before church was to begin, the doors opened and in walked this elderly couple. It took a lot of effort, but he was able to hold her up and get her down the isle. In her hands she was clutching a large paper bag. In his hands he was clutching her. We proceeded to have a very lively and active church service, which enabled them to get their eyes full of our style preaching and worship.
At the close of the service he approached me. “Pastor, my wife has made a decision. She wants to be baptized in Jesus’ name as you have taught us. Do you think you could baptize her tonight? She has brought extra clothes in her bag,” he added.
I was ecstatic, but slightly alarmed. This dear lady was in very bad shape physically. It crossed my mind that we might drown her in the baptismal tank. That would be terrible, but it would save me from having to face tomorrow night’s service … the seventh day since my visitation!
Actually I was so happy about it that I climbed into the water myself, and with much effort and half of the church helping to get her in the water we washed her sins away, calling on the name of the Lord. She left that night shaking and being half carried out by her husband. She was saying to me in a trembling and frail little voice, “I feel better! I feel better!”
She did not look any better, but by this time I was willing to accept any sign that I could get. It was at this time that my youth leader approached me. He began to tell me how much he wanted to see a miracle with his own eyes. He had been hearing me talk about what God was going to do regarding this woman, and he wanted to see a miracle personally.
I asked him if he had received the Holy Ghost. “Yes,” he replied. I told him that the Holy Ghost is a miracle. But he wasn’t satisfied.
I told him to take a deep breath, and let it out again. I told him that being alive and breathing is a miracle. But he wasn’t satisfied.
“Pastor, I want to see a real miracle type of miracle … right before my eyes,” he stated.
There is nothing like pressure to prove a man’s faith.
I encouraged him to simply love God, love truth, and to be faithful in all his ways. I taught him to not look for miracles, signs and wonders. I stressed that we do not have to see these things to believe in the power of God, but that in fact miracles can deceive us and lead us away from the truth.
He told me that he understood, but he still wanted to see a miracle with his own eyes. As he was leaving he informed me that he had to work late the following night, and that he would not be able to arrive at the church until about 8 PM. He was in the military. I encouraged him to come straight from work, and just wear his fatigues to church tomorrow night.
The second night of our revival was night number seven. Again the man brought his wife to church, and again we started having a good pre-service. At this time I had zero doubt that God would do exactly what He had said that He would do. Not only did I have the faith, but so also did the congregation. I had made up my mind that at the conclusion of the service, if the miracle had not happened yet, then I would indeed invite him into the pulpit. I was convinced that even at that time God would fulfill His promise.
I was changing the order of the service. It was quiet in the church. I was opening my Bible to read the text for the sermon. It was 8 PM. The sanctuary door opened and my youth leader entered into the church. He was halfway across the back of the church, directly under the low eight-foot balcony, when it happened. I had just looked down again to read my text.
A piercing scream jolted our attention. The lady that had came by faith … the one that had been bed ridden and at times spoon fed for ten years … had jumped straight up out of the pew. Her hands were lifted straight into the air. She was jumping up and down. She was yelling, “I am healed!” She climbed up on the pew, leaped over her husband, who had lowered his glasses and was watching her go. She began to run around the church again and again, saying over and over, “I am healed!” She ran like a twenty year old.
On the seventh day she was completely healed. It happened just as the Lord said that it would. And as an extra bonus and in answer to a young man’s prayer, I had a youth leader that saw a miracle with his own eyes, on the seventh night. In the shouting and rejoicing that followed he jumped so high that he literally bumped his head on the bottom of the eight-foot ceiling under the balcony.
That little lady left church that night on her own power. She was like a new woman. Her husband was beaming with happiness. There own son was a physician. He later confirmed that she was free of all disease.
He never did get to stand in the pulpit and tell the church that I was a false prophet.
It was down to the wire, but truth prevailed and God arose.

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Chapter 11

Author’s Note: You just never know when God will blow your mind with His incredible mercy. This story is truly all about God’s mercy.

Stomach Cancer Healed!

On a side street in Mexico several vehicles pulled to a halt as we parked in front of a small home. The church service was over and we had been requested to come and pray for a little woman who was dying of cancer. As our small group went to the door a woman was there to greet us. She invited us in warmly. You could see the plea of hope and desperation in her eyes.
She led us to the bedside of her aged mother. The little lady looked very frail and worn. Her stomach was very swollen, appearing similar to that of a mother who was very advanced in her pregnancy. The daughter informed us that her mother was full of abdominal cancer. The hospital could offer her no hope, and she was simply lying here waiting on the slow and painful death of a pauper. Death was near, very near.
Compassion gripped our hearts. We gathered around the bed and shared with them the beautiful message of truth. We spoke to them about the plan of salvation. After we explained a few things to them we anointed her with oil and began to pray. The sweet presence of God was strong, and His virtue was felt as it flowed through us.
Eventually we felt to leave and bid them farewell. It was very hot in the room, and I remember the lady and her daughter praising God and sweating profusely even as we departed. The daughter was standing by her mother’s bed, lifting one of her mother’s hands up to the Lord, and praising Jesus in a heavenly language.
Several nights later I returned for the next church service. I was greeted at the church by Brother Cornelio Carrillo and his wife, Sister Carmen. They had been with us as we prayed for the lady with cancer a few nights before.
“Pastor,” they told me excitedly. “Do you know what happened to the lady that we prayed for the other night?”
“What happened to her?” I asked.
“We saw her in the market the next morning!” he exclaimed. I was astounded. “You saw her?” I asked.
“She woke up the next morning and the first thing she noticed was that the excruciating pain was not there. As she lay there she looked down at her stomach area and noticed that the swelling was gone. Leaping out of her bed she realized that her body had returned to normal, and she felt completely healed of cancer,” they said.
“She was so excited to know that God had healed her. She told her daughter that she felt wonderful but very