A collection of healing testimonies

http://youtu.be/ooSZDxI5bs0



No challenge is too big or too small for our Lord Jesus. This video we showed on Resurrection Sunday, 24 April 2011, bears testimony to the goodness and faithfulness of our God. Watch this collection of healing testimonies and realise that your need has already been taken care of by Jesus at the cross!

A Couple's Faith Journey

http://youtu.be/5XBC85IZBS8




What do you do when circumstances seem hopeless? When praying does not seem to yield any result? Do you stand strong or do you give up?

Watch this inspiring and hope-filled video featuring Pastor K E Mathews and his wife, Rachel Mathews. Witness how, against all odds, they stood firm on God's Word and believed that He is a God who is more than willing and able to give them the desire of their hearts — children.

The Healing Power Of Jesus' Blood

The Healing Power Of Jesus' Blood



A routine pre-natal blood test reported a high risk of Down's Syndrome for Vicky's unborn child, leaving her devastated. See how her sorrow turned to joy as she trusted God and looked to Jesus' finished work on the cross!

Testimony of Bill Courtemanche : CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?

Miracles Part IV: Can You Hear Me Now?

Shared by Kononia House at www.khouse.org

On a Sunday morning in early 2008, Bill Courtemanche knelt at the altar of his church in Hedgesville, WV, frustrated over the suffering around him. The church was still grieving over a 36-year-old wife and mother in the church who had died of cancer. Bill knelt and asked God, "Lord, what is going on? Why do we have all this suffering? Do you even hear our prayers?"

Bill had struggled with alcoholism early in his adulthood, but in 1984 he had rededicated his life to the Lord and had been sober ever since. He believed that his faith had grown strong over the years, but now he was struggling with what seemed like God's lack of action in the middle of great need. Things kept going wrong, and it seemed as though God had gone silent. 

The fact was that Bill couldn't hear very well anyway. In 1992, Bill had worked as an undercover drug task force officer. One night during a drug raid, a gun went off near his ear, and the concussion of the shot permanently damaged his hearing. His left ear became completely deaf, and he lost 40 percent of the hearing in his right ear. For the next 17 years, Bill lived in a world of muffled noises. He learned to lip read, but he told us his deafness, "really irritated my wife. She kept bugging me to get a hearing aid." Still, he grew used to living with a lot of silence. 

That day in 2008, as Bill knelt at the altar pouring out his heart before God, he suddenly felt a terrible burning in his ears. "I felt like my head was on fire, like it was about to explode. My ears were burning up, and I felt really ill. So, I went home after church and lay down." He slept that afternoon, and when he woke up he felt much better. The burning and nausea were gone. Then he noticed something strange. After 17 years, he was able to hear out of both his ears. "It was bizarre," he said. "I would hear things. I went to an audiologist, and he said, there's nothing wrong with your ears.'" 

Bill grinned, "I always justified it as God's saying, 'Can you hear Me now?' " 

That was just the first miracle. 

On a Thursday night, Bill got a call that his mother had been found dead on her bathroom floor. The paramedics had arrived and worked on her and decided to take her to Uniontown Hospital, where her heart stopped beating again. At that point they put Bill's mother on life support. 

"She was an elderly person who had just had a heart attack and was dead. I don't know why they put her on life support. They life-flighted her to the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center, which was a screw up because they aren't supposed to transport people on life support." 

Even though his mother was technically brain dead, Bill spent the whole evening sitting beside her, praying for her and reading to her, "and doing the things you do when you don't know what to do." He went down to the chapel the next morning, and a chaplain came in. The chaplain approached Bill, who explained the dilemma he felt he was in. He did not want to remove the life support and let his mother die, but she was only "alive" because she was hooked to machines. "I was troubled," Bill said, "His answer to me was that life support machines are man-made and only God can terminate a life. If she was meant to go Home, she'd die, and if she wasn't, she wouldn't." So, they set a time on Saturday to remove the life support, and Bill's brothers and sisters went in to say goodbye. 

About 11:30 on Saturday morning, Bill entered the hospital room in order to have the machines removed. He told us:

"I was told to kiss her on the head and kiss her goodbye. When I did, she woke up! It freaked everybody out. The doctor there said he'd been up there for 15 years as the head of the cardiology unit. He said literally, 'It's a miracle, she's supposed to be dead.' The funny part of it was, I was talking to her that afternoon and she told me, 'You know the most annoying thing? You know how hard it is to sleep when somebody sits there all night reading to you?' Here's a woman who has no brain activity hearing everything that I'm reading to her. She was out of the hospital two weeks later."

The Apostle Paul described the curious mixture of struggle and victory in the Christian life when he said,"We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed," (2Cor 4:8-9). We may feel sometimes that God has abandoned us, but He has said, "I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." (Hebrews 13:5). God loves us so deeply, so truly, so completely, that He gave His Son to die for us. He would not pay that great price just to drop us. As we celebrate Passover Week and Resurrection Sunday, may we thank our Savior in the truest way possible. May we believe Him when He says He loves us and trust Him enough to put our lives fully in His hands. Perhaps when we get there, we'll find we're better able to hear Him after all.

A Wife Of A Jobless Husband Shares Her Story of Waiting

This wonderful testimony shared by Bo Sanchez click here to visit his website for more spiritual uplifting article

A Wife Of A Jobless Husband Shares Her Story of Waiting…

I’m taking a break from my teaching series on “Getting Rid of Hidden Addictions.” (I’ll give the next article next week.) Let me pause to take a breather and share with you a beautiful story.

I met Yane Pe Benito when I gave a talk at her company, Pioneer Insurance. Yane is a lovely woman with such an amazing story to tell, I decided to share it to the world.

Two years ago, Yane’s husband, Beni, without warning, lost his job. It was doubly painful because it was a great job. For 6 years, Beni enjoyed working in a multinational distribution company for skincare products. But because of a reorganization that happened in the company (which is happening in many companies nowadays), he was “redundated”.

Yane decided to tell her two small children, Gabriel (then age 6), and Marga (then age 4) about the sad news, carefully choosing the words she’d use to put it to them. “Kids, we have to take better care of our things… and not waste our money because …Daddy doesn’t have a job anymore.”

Little Gabriel said, “You mean Daddy was fired?” Yane was surprised at the bluntness of his words. “Now where did you learn that word?!” Her son said matter-of-factly, “From Peter Parker - Spiderman.”

But yes, redundated was just a fancy word for “Get out, we don’t need you here anymore.” Losing a job is always painful, even if it goes with a “separation pay” or a “redundancy package”. While Yane was thankful for the windfall, part of her was anxious, wondering how long their family was going to have to live off the separation package.

The first few months were OK; Beni got an average of two invitations per week to come for interview. But as the months stretched to a year — and then more, the invitations got fewer and far between.

During the almost two years of her husband’s joblessness, Yane was going through her own anxiety. As a mother to two growing schoolchildren, she saw their savings getting smaller. (As a contingency measure, she moved out of her 8-yr old job to accept a higher-paying one.)
But aside from the dwindling funds, she was also worried about Beni’s self-esteem. It wasn’t that he wasn’t trying; it was apparent thatthere just weren’t enough job opportunities for middle-aged men with his background and experience. There were actually two jobs that he accepted, but both were short-lived. Call it a conflict of personalities or a clash of styles, but he couldn’t see himself working there long-term. Anguished, Beni would walk out the door again.

And their marriage started to suffer too, since she was the one who was now earning for the family. “Will my husband’s ego take this for long?” she asked herself many, many times. As each month passed, she was getting more and more worried for Beni.
Yane began questioning God, “Lord, I don’t understand what else you’re trying to teach us! How else should we pray? What else should we pray for?”

That was when Yane realized that their prayer had to be more specific.
So she gathered her two kids around her and said, “Let’s pray for Daddy, that he would find a good job with a good boss – someone like his first boss in his former company.”

And so that became the family’s specific prayer. “Lord, please help Daddy get a boss that is as good and kind as his first boss in his old company, in Jesus name.”

One day, about a year ago from today, Yane came home from work and saw the kids and her husband in a huddle. “What’s all this about?” she asked.
She heard her kids whisper excitedly, “Show it to her now!”
Beni handed her a brown envelop.
Yane thought it was something from the kids’ school.
But no. As she slowly pulled out the paper from the envelope, she read the name of a company…then her husband’s job title… then his salary… At these, she merely nodded in satisfaction.
But when she got to the bottom of the paper, she was shocked. For there was a signature. It was that of Beni’s favourite boss!
To her kids’ astonishment, Yane began to cry and laugh at the same time. She could hardly believe it! Like a child, she jumped up and down with joy, much to the kids’ amusement who jumped and laughed along with her.

Gabriel asked his mother, “Mom, why are you crying and laughing at the same time?”
Yane saw a great opportunity to explain, “I’m crying because I’m so happy, son. Remember how you prayed for a good boss for Daddy? Look at this name,” she pointed to the paper she was holding. “We were merely asking for a boss that would be like Daddy’s old boss. But no, God gave your Daddy exactly the same boss! He answered our prayers!”
That was when Gabriel began to sob.
“Why are you crying?” Yane asked.
“Because I’m so happy too,” the little boy said, as the entire family embraced each other.

When Yane shared me this story, I knew I had to share it with you.
Because all of us go through many hardships and losses.
We lose our jobs, we lose our loved ones, we lose our money, we lose our friends… And sometimes, we wait and wait for the pain to go away, for the loss to be recovered. Sometimes, we wait for a long time. (Yane and Beni had to wait for two long years.)
But in the end, I believe that God has prepared the very best blessing for you.

Have faith. Trust. The best is yet to come!
I remain your friend,
Bo Sanchez

You Have 3 Months to Live

After my doctor broke the devastating news, I began to discover the true power of prayer.

By Stephen J. Tomasi

"Stephen, you've got three months to live." With that one simple statement, my life came to a screeching halt. In a fraction of a second, all my hopes and dreams vanished. Stunned, I sat rock still while my physician droned on and my wife, Deborah, sobbed quietly.

Why me? I thought. Why me, indeed. I had always taken care of myself and was a very active non-smoking, non-drinking 49-year-old. How could I have a terminal disease? The events of the next few months would test not only the limits of what my body could endure, but the strength of my beliefs as well.

I had always been a spiritual person but was nonetheless a little skeptical about the power of prayer. But that was about to change.

I had an extremely rare blood disorder called primary amyloidosis, a first cousin to leukemia but much more aggressive. The condition is so uncommon that each year fewer than 200 people are diagnosed with it.

Though the disease was usually terminal, there was a slim chance that a new oncologist might be able to help me. This oncologist had moved to town only the week before and just happened to specialize in rare blood disorders. Coincidence? I thought so at the time. Now, looking back on the events of that period, I am convinced that there are no coincidences in a Christian's life.

A 50/50 Chance

The next day, Deborah and I sat in the oncologist's sterile office surrounded by unpacked boxes and daunting machines. He confirmed the diagnosis but told me it might be possible to buy more time. First he had to do a bone marrow aspiration (a type of biopsy on my bone marrow). Then I was to begin chemotherapy the very next day.

Waiting a week for the aspiration results was agonizing, but I was relieved when they finally arrived. My oncologist was elated--the involvement in my marrow was only 2 percent. It was unheard of to catch this disease so early in its growth, and I became a likely candidate for a bone marrow transplant, my only hope of survival. Coincidence?

"Facing the greatest battle of my life, all I could do was pray to the Lord. Where once I had been prideful, I found myself humbled."—Stephen Tomasi

By now, I'd come to the realization that I could no longer keep this from our 18-year-old daughter, Aly. She knew that I was ill, but just how ill was another story. In one of the most difficult moments of my life, I sat down with Aly and told her the prognosis. We held each other and cried, but finally she wiped her face with the back of her hands, looked me in the eyes, and said, "Dad, we just have to trust in the Lord. He will pull us through this." Her words would sustain me during some dark hours.

Six months of chemotherapy left me bald, gaunt, and listless, with legs swollen from repeated steroid use. Still, despite very poor health, I was accepted by the City of Hope Medical Center in southern California, one of the top hospitals in the nation for experimental medicine. The oncology board scheduled my bone marrow transplant for February 9, 2001. In the surgery, my own cells would be collected, irradiated to kill the malignancy, and then put back into my body. It was a groundbreaking procedure that would not require an outside donor.

After a full week of pre-tests at the City of Hope, Deborah and I sat before the head oncologist. He told us that there was a 50/50 chance that I wouldn't make it. Bolstered by hope, I responded, "Then I have a 50 percent chance of making it." He said he liked my attitude and that was one reason why the board had accepted me as a patient.

Taking Prayer SeriouslyI was reared in the Southern Baptist church and had learned such adages as "The Lord never puts on us more than we can handle." But as we drove home to wait for the date I would be admitted to the hospital, I was angry. I remember thinking how much I disagreed with that proverbial claim.

My world was in shambles. As a teacher at a public middle school, I loved being in a classroom, but I had now been off the job for several weeks, and I was running out of sick leave. Facing the greatest battle of my life, all I could do was pray to the Lord. Where once I had been prideful, I found myself humbled. I begged God for nine more months so that I could see my daughter graduate from high school. I began reaching out to others, seeking their prayers, too.

After Deborah and I first received the diagnosis, people began to hold me up in prayer. I got letters, cards, and e-mails from family and friends across the nation. What surprised me was not only the number of former students who had heard of my plight but the variety of denominations placing me on their prayer lists. I was choked with emotion when I received a prayer quilt from a nearby church. Many of my students and fellow teachers attend this church, and each had said a prayer as they knotted the quilt. I kept that quilt with me the entire time I was at the City of Hope.

One night just a few days before I was to enter the hospital, I was lying on the couch in my den. My Bible was propped on my chest, and I had been reading and re-reading passages of Scripture. I wanted to go to bed, but my ankles were so swollen that they ached. I began to pray for the strength to get through all that was ahead of me, when suddenly a voice filled my mind. It was a powerful and yet gentle voice that challenged me with, "What are you so afraid of? Open your eyes and see what I have done for you."

I did as I was told and opened my eyes to see something unbelievable. My ankles, a major source of concern for weeks, were suddenly back to normal size. I was stunned. Only minutes before I had been rubbing them, trying to get some relief. As I stared in awestruck silence, the voice once again filled my mind, but this time it was softer, almost a whisper. "And you think I can't cure your disease?"

I jumped up, dashed to the master bedroom, and turned on the bedside lamp. When Deborah opened her eyes, I stood back and pointed at my legs. As I related the events of the past few minutes, tears began to course down her cheeks. "Let's thank Him together," she said. And we did.

From that point on, I've lived my life by letting go and letting God take the burden. I won't say that the months of chemotherapy, the transplant, and being away from friends and family were easy times for me, but with the Lord at my side I found I was able to face each obstacle with the assurance that He would be there to lift me up.

A Higher Authority

After a year of treatment, and three months at the City of Hope, I was released. Before I left, I asked my doctors if I could expect remission and was told, "No, we've merely bought you time. Remission isn't possible with your disease. Go home and enjoy the time you have left." I thanked them but thought to myself, "We'll see."

In three months we did see. After my first follow-up bone marrow aspiration, I was declared cancer free. My oncologist was thrilled, and yet when I asked if this meant remission, he replied, "No, this disease is illusive. It's probably somewhere in your body. We'll do monthly blood tests as a precaution."

The monthly blood tests began, and each time they came back clear. My blood work was perfectly normal. It wasn't until my third bone marrow test that the doctors admitted that I must be in remission. What sweet words they were, and yet the doctors were still amazed. I smiled and said, "Makes you realize there is a Higher Authority than man, doesn't it?" This time, they agreed.

Against my doctors' wishes, that fall I returned to work. It was a challenge to regain my strength, but before long I was able to resume teaching full time. One day I called my oncologist and asked him to fax a copy of my latest "clear" bone marrow test to our family physician, Dr. Strategos, the young man who had originally diagnosed my illness. A few days later, Dr. Strategos responded with a short letter:

Dear Stephen,I am very happy that the bone marrow sample was favorable. We have much to be thankful for. Direct all thanks and gratitude to God, for as it says in John 15:5, we can do nothing without Christ.

After reading his words, I knew that not only had the Lord worked a miracle in my life, but he had been working through my doctors as well. I still read his letter from time to time. And although it's been more than two years, I still am overcome by those simple words.

I now share my testimony with anyone who will listen. Until the end of my days, I will tell everyone I see that God's promise is true: "For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, 'Do not fear, I will help you'" (Isaiah 41:13).

Stephen J. Tomasi lives in Bakersfield, California.
Copyright © 2004 by the author or Christianity Today International

9/11 Firefighter Remembers 'Taste of Hell'

Elite Member of Rescue Squad Sees The Fingerprints of God at the Pentagon on 9/11

 

Larry Everett

FAIRFAX COUNTY, VIRGINIA (ANS) -- Larry Everett is a member of the elite Fairfax County, Virginia, Fire and Rescue Department – and he remembers exactly where he was on Tuesday, September 11, 2001.

On that fateful morning five years ago, Everett had a taste of hell.

Pentagon aerial view

According to an article written by Terry White for his denominational newspaper, Everett was called in to assist when a hijacked Boeing 757 slammed into the 29-acre Pentagon complex on September 11, 2001 – a day that will take its place in history alongside Pearl Harbor.

"Everett vividly recalls entering the third floor of the massive facility and being met with a wall of fire. Temperatures exceeded 2,500 degrees -- he and his crew of 25 watched metal desks and file cabinets melt before their eyes," says White.

Wearing firefighting gear rated for only 1,500 degrees, Everett is convinced that God protected him in the inferno. Everett and his colleagues spent nine hours in active firefighting that day.

White says: "Their strategy on the upper floors was to push the fire further back into the building where it would starve and be extinguished. But no matter what they did, they could not escape the intense heat."

"This is what hell is going to be like," Everett remembers thinking. The impact of the airliner and leaking fuel produced intense heat and a smoky blaze that penetrated three of the building's five rings.

White says that when the firefighters entered the first floor, they found a dark area within the collapsed building. Eighteen inches of water covered the floor—it had filtered down from firefighters on the upper stories.

There in the basement Everett saw his second picture of hell—a darkness that was so complete it established itself as a presence. "You could feel the darkness," Everett recalls. "Hell is the complete and utter absence of God."

"You Start Where You Start"

Firefighters at the Pentagon

When he arrived on the scene in truck No. 402, Everett muttered into his microphone, "Where are we going to start?"

His driver, hearing the question, answered, "You start where you start."

Everett leaned into his strong faith in God and uttered a quick two-part prayer. "Please give me wisdom to make good decisions that will get the job done and protect my men," he asked. "And please protect my eyes—don't let me see something I shouldn't, that I don't need to see."

White says that God answered both prayers for Everett.

He asks how Everett and his men, taking 20-minute shifts, worked effectively in temperatures nearly double the rating of their equipment?

"God created a tunnel of wind that left an opening," Everett said. That wind tunnel effectively kept cooler air flowing and enabled them to work in the intense heat.

The second prayer was answered by the 18-inch-deep water on the lower floor. "We never saw a body, we never saw a body part," Everett recalls. "They were there—but 18 inches of water will hide a lot." The crash killed about 200 people, including all 64 on the plane and 125 at the Pentagon. Most of the dead were on the first floor. Everett and his men concentrated on the first and third floors.

"There were lots of miracles that day," Everett remembers. One of them was that American Airlines Flight 77, the plane that went into the Pentagon, was only half-full. On a normal day there would have been twice as many passengers.

"And why, of all the places it could hit, did the plane go into the building at a point that had been under construction for several years and was almost completely unoccupied?" he reflects.

Everett refers to September 11, 2001, as the "second greatest day of my life."

The first, White says, was November 29, 1988, when Everett gave his heart to Jesus Christ. A fire truck in which he was riding collided with a car full of teenagers, an accident that impacted Everett greatly. He'd been working as a part-time insurance agent, and a client whose portfolio he'd reviewed said, "We've talked about life insurance. Now I want to talk about life assurance."

The friend urged Everett to give his heart to the Lord, which he did. "I was physically different the next morning after that experience," Everett said. "The change in me was real." Eighteen months later his wife, Andrea, gave her heart to Christ, as well.

John "Larry" Everett, 40, grew up in Rockville, Maryland. He started as a firefighter with Montgomery County, Maryland, was with them for five years, and has now had 20 ½ years with the Fairfax County Fire and Rescue Department.

White writes: "From firefighter he was promoted to hazardous materials technician, to lieutenant, to Captain I, then Captain II, and this past June 24 was made Battalion Chief. He is now responsible for 75 people in seven stations, covering 80 square miles in elite western Fairfax County, Virginia."

Hopes to Be in Youth Ministry

White reports that along the way, the gregarious Everett has earned degrees in youth ministry and church business management. After he retires from the fire department, he hopes to be in full-time youth ministry.

For the last eight years, Everett has provided valuable help at the Brethren National Youth Conference, primarily in public relations and transportation.

Everett first came in contact with Grace Brethren churches while attending the Frederick, Maryland, church, where he led the youth group for seven and a half years.

The Everetts began attending the Clinton, Maryland, church about five years ago and now live in Clinton, where Andrea works for the Clinton church as the kitchen manager.

The oldest of their three children, Philip, will enter Grace College in Winona Lake, Indiana, this fall. Rebekah is 15, and Joshua is 13.

White continues: "Partly because of the 9/11 experience, and partly because of his natural skills in public speaking and human relations, Everett has a blooming career as a public speaker. With his schedule managed by a national speakers agency, he averages several engagements a month to groups ranging from 25 to 3,000.

"He often speaks at school assemblies. If they ask for his Christian testimony and a call for salvation decisions, he is happy to comply. He also speaks to business and secular audiences, giving his observations on God's protection and guidance."

White says that last year Everett spoke at an 1,100-student high school for a week and there were 175 recorded first-time decisions for Christ and 130 recommitments. He often uses the title "Fingerprints of God in 9/11."

This spring he was the speaker for the Ashland County (Ohio) Prayer Breakfast, a citywide gathering sponsored by a consortium of churches. About 450 attended the event and Larry Edwards, pastor of Southview Grace Brethren Church in Ashland, said, "He gave a powerful, clear, and compelling testimony."

The assistant principal of a Georgia high school said of Everett, "Your presentation is phenomenal! You have turned a tragic event into something positive. Your motivational speech was well-received by our student body. You provided them with 'food for thought' in lifelong lessons."

Although he may have seen hell that day, Firefighter Everett also knows -- and freely shares -- the way to escape a literal hell. He has seen the fingerprints of God in 9/11.

By Michael Ireland
Special Correspondent, ASSIST News Service,

You may contact Everett by e-mail at: eversafe@comcast.net.

http://www.assistnews.net/Stories/s06090031.htm

Heaven Scent - Story of Diana Blessing

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You can either watch the slide show or read the story below..

A cold March wind danced around the dead of night in Dallas as the doctor walked into the small hospital room of Diana Blessing. She was still groggy from surgery. Her husband, David, held her hand as they braced themselves for the latest news. That afternoon of March 10, 1991, complications had forced Diana, only 24-weeks pregnant, to undergo an emergency Cesarean to deliver couple's new daughter, Dana Lu Blessing.

At 12 inches long and weighing only one pound nine ounces, they already knew she was perilously premature. Still, the doctor's soft words dropped like bombs. "I don't think she's going to make it," he said, as kindly as he could. There's only a 10-percent chance she will live through the night, and even then, if by some slim chance she does make it, her future could be a very cruel one"

Numb with disbelief, David and Diana listened as the doctor described the devastating problems Dana would likely face if she survived. She would never walk, she would never talk, she would probably be blind, and she would certainly be prone to other catastrophic conditions from cerebral palsy to complete mental retardation, and on and on. "No! No!" was all Diana could say. She and David, with their 5-year-old son Dustin, had long dreamed of the day they would have a daughter to become a family of four. Now, within a matter of hours, that dream was slipping away

But as those first days passed, a new agony set in for David and Diana. Because Dana's underdeveloped nervous system was essentially 'raw', the lightest kiss or caress only intensified her discomfort, so they couldn't even cradle their tiny baby girl against their chests to offer the strength of their love. All they could do, as Dana struggled alone beneath the ultraviolet light in the tangle of tubes and wires, was to pray that God would stay close to their precious little girl.

There was never a moment when Dana suddenly grew stronger. But as the weeks went by, she did slowly gain an ounce of weight here and an ounce of strength there. At last, when Dana turned two months old, her parents were able to hold her in their arms for the very first time. And two months later, though doctors continued to gently but grimly warn that her chances of surviving, much less living any kind of normal life, were next to zero, Dana went home from the hospital, just as her mother had predicted.

Five years later, when Dana was a petite but feisty young girl with glittering gray eyes and an unquenchable zest for life. She showed no signs whatsoever of any mental or physical impairment. Simply, she was everything a little girl can be and more. But that happy ending is far from the end of her story.

One blistering afternoon in the summer of 1996 near her home in Irving, Texas, Dana was sitting in her mother's lap in the bleachers of a local ball park where her brother Dustin's baseball team was practicing. As always, Dana was chattering nonstop with her mother and several other adults sitting nearby when she suddenly fell silent. Hugging her arms across her chest, little Dana asked, "Do you smell that?" Smelling the air and detecting the approach of a thunderstorm, Diana replied, "Yes, it smells like rain."

Dana closed her eyes and again asked, "Do you smell that?" Once again, her mother replied, "Yes, I think we're about to get wet. It smells like rain." Still caught in the moment, Dana shook her head, patted her thin shoulders with her small hands and loudly announced, "No, it smells like Him. It smells like God when you lay your head on His chest."

Tears blurred Diana's eyes as Dana happily hopped down to play with the other children. Before the rains came, her daughter's words confirmed what Diana and all the members of the extended Blessing family had known, at least in their hearts, all along. During those long days and nights of her first two months of her life, when her nerves were too sensitive for them to touch her, God was holding Dana on His chest and it is His loving scent that she remembers so well.

Here are excerpts from Diana Blessing's message to truthorfiction.com on 8/21/00:

"Yes, the story known as THE SMELL OF RAIN is true. "The original title is 'Heaven Scent'. About 5 years ago now, the C.E.O. of Columbia hospitals decided to compile some of the wonderful stories that he had received and put them into a book formatted similar to the 'Chicken Soup' series. This book was titled 'Miracles In Our Midst.' Danae's story was submitted and picked in rough draft written by my mother. The 'writers' then called and interviewed me, finalizing the story from this interview. When the book was released, he decided to use his, 'favorite story' to promote the book on the internet. It happened to be Danae's story. People then began the long journey that has now revolved over and over all around the globe as they took that little story and forwarded it to their friends and loved ones. The story has been in numerous church newsletters, two magazines and has most recently been published in the latest 'Chicken Soup' book titled 'Chicken Soup For The Christian Family Soul.'

"Danae is now a lively, beautiful, active, free-spirited, blissful, God-loving fourth-grader. She is in the Gifted and Talented program. Still petite, but growing daily. She loves to play 'active' sports. Soccer, softball, basketball. She had taken gymnastics and loved it. Especially the fact that she shares a birthday with Shannon Miller, but decided to stick with the more aggressive sports. She swims like a little fish. Loves all animals. Has several of her own.

"Danae has a compassion for other people that I have never witnessed with another child and I work with children daily. She is a pure joy to be around and is NEVER at a loss for words. When I first began getting response from the story I was startled. I quickly realized that God was working his magic. I praised him for allowing me to be blessed in such a way that I see his well doings each and every day. My husband and I decided that if sharing Danae's story touched even one person, than that is what was meant to be. I know now that it has touched many, many and continues everyday. I am so grateful to know the Lord and to have him so evident before us. I am also thankful for the widespread response and blessings from so many of the people that have received the story and have been touched by it. Hopefully it will continue to spread the news of God's love.

"I knew when I first saw Danae that she could not and would not be contained. She screamed to be shared. We couldn't walk in the grocery store without someone commenting about her. So, I painfully acknowledged the fact that she would not be mine alone. Danae has a lot to give. This story is only the beginning.

"Thank you for taking the time to verify the truth. I am excited to imagine all the lives that will be touched even now that they know it is true!

Sincerely,
Diana Blessing-Luckiest Mom on Earth!

The Hot Bottle Water - A True Story By Helen Roseveare

One night, in Central Africa, I had worked hard to help a mother in the labor ward; but in spite of all that we could do, she died leaving us with a tiny, premature baby and a crying, two-year-old daughter. We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive. We had no incubator. We had no electricity to run an incubator, and no special feeding facilities. Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous drafts. 

A student-midwife went for the box we had for such babies and for the cotton wool that the baby would be wrapped in. Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle. She came back shortly, in distress, to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst. Rubber perishes easily in tropical climates. "...and it is our last hot water bottle!" she exclaimed. As in the West, it is no good crying over spilled milk; so, in Central Africa it might be considered no good crying over a burst water bottle. They do not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways. All right," I said, "Put the baby as near the fire as you safely can; sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts. Your job is to keep the baby warm." 

The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with many of the orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny baby. I explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot water bottle. The baby could so easily die if it got chilled. I also told them about the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died.

 

During the prayer time, one ten-year-old girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual blunt consciousness of our African children. "Please, God," she prayed, "send us a water bottle. It'll be no good tomorrow, God, the baby'll be dead; so, please send it this afternoon." While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added by way of corollary, " ...And while You are about it, would You please send a dolly for the little girl so she'll know You really love her?" As often with children's prayers, I was put on the spot. Could I honestly say, "Amen?" I just did not believe that God could do this. Oh, yes, I know that He can do everything: The Bible says so, but there are limits, aren't there? The only way God could answer this particular prayer would be by sending a parcel from the homeland. I had been in Africa for almost four years at that time, and I had never, ever received a parcel from home. Anyway, if anyone did send a parcel, who would put in a hot water bottle? I lived on the equator! 

Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses' training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door. By the time that I reached home, the car had gone, but there, on the veranda, was a large twenty-two pound parcel! I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel alone; so, I sent for the orphanage children. Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it unduly. Excitement was mounting. Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes were focused on the large cardboard box.

 

From the top, I lifted out brightly colored, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled as I gave them out. Then, there were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and the children began to look a little bored. Next, came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas - - that would make a nice batch of buns for the weekend. As I put my hand in again, I felt the...could it really be? I grasped it, and pulled it out. Yes, "A brand-new rubber, hot water bottle!" I cried. I had not asked God to send it; I had not truly believed that He could. Ruth was in the front row of the children. She rushed forward, crying out, "If God has sent the bottle, He must have sent the dolly, too!" Rummaging down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small, beautifully dressed dolly. Her eyes shone: She had never doubted! Looking up at me, she asked, "Can I go over with you, Mummy, and give this dolly to that little girl, so she'll know that Jesus really loves her?" 

That parcel had been on the way for five whole months, packed up by my former Sunday School class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God's prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator. One of the girls had put in a dolly for an African child -- five months earlier in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it "That afternoon!"  

Helen Roseveare a doctor missionary from England to Zaire, Africa, told this as it had happened to her in Africa. She shared it in her testimony on a Wednesday night at Thomas Road Baptist Church.

"And it shall come to pass, that before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear." (Isaiah 65:24)

This story originates from Helen Roseveare, a missionary from Northern Ireland.  She included this story in her book "Living Faith."  She has written about the revival that took place in the 1950's in what was then the Belgian Congo.  She has been associated with WEC (World Evangelization for Christ at http://www.wec-int.org/index.html). Some of her writings can be ordered from (http://www.wec-int.org/ministries.htm#books)

Nancy Caffee - Grandma Cheats Death

By Michelle Wilson and Dan Reany The 700 Club

One of Nancy Caffee’s favorite past times is spoiling her grandchildren. That’s why she was delighted the day she visited with her daughter and new grandson. Everything went well until the next morning… “I kept getting dizzy everytime I tried to get up,” she says. “Then I started having heart papitations and didn’t know exactly what was going on with me.”

Nancy and her husband Jerry went to a doctor. He thought she had the flu but later discovered that she had sepsis -- a rare condition that causes massive swelling, organ failure and sometimes death. “My whole body shut down. I went into congestive heart failure,” she says. “My lungs filled up with fluid. My kidneys stopped functioning. Everything life sustaining was breaking down and stopping.”

Nancy slipped into a coma while doctors fought for her life. Dr. Kelvin Wiley remembers Nancy’s case well. “The number of cases that survive such severe sepsis as Ms. Caffee had is very very low,” he says. “So although we gave her all of the antibiotics we could, she still was not responding.”

Five days later Nancy came out of the coma, only to hear shocking news. X-rays revealed that she had 15 lesions on her liver and masses in her lungs that were probably cancerous. Further tests showed that Nancy had blocked bile ducts. “When someone has bile duct disease that can cause problems with the liver chronically and in fact depending if it’s cancerous could be terminal,” Dr. Wiley says.
“I asked my family, ‘Why didn’t you let me die in the coma? Why didn’t you let me die of sepsis?’ Because I didn’t want to have to face cancer,” she says.

Doctors gave Nancy medications to stabilize her. She was eventually released from intensive care and sent home.

“I had to have someone get me out of bed and stand me up and that was the extent of what I could do,” says Nancy. “I kept saying dear God you know what’s going on through. You know that I’m so weak and so worn out and tired that I can’t utter anything. I just am in your care and I had to depend on other people’s prayers.”

The prayers that went up on Nancy’s behalf were about to be answered.

Nancy recalls, “During my recouperation period I started watching The 700 Club. One day I was sitting and praying with Terry and Gordon. And Gordon said in a word of knowledge.”

There’s someone with problems with your bile ducts and it’s like they’re clogged and you’re not having proper function in that organ. God has just healed you in Jesus’ name. He’s just releasing that now in Jesus’ name. And that go back and get tested because God has done a tremendous miracle for you just now.

Nancy continues, “I was just praising God. I said, ‘Jerry that’s me. That’s me.’ How many people have blocked bile ducts? It’s not a common thing and so I just claimed it.” Jerry says, “It kind of excited me at that point ‘cause I felt that we really did need to go at that point and get this verified.”

“So I went down there, and he verified it that my bile ducts were indeed unblocked,” says Nancy. There was more good news for Nancy and her family. “She went for a biopsy of the liver. The results came back no cancer,” says Dr. Wiley. “She had a repeat x-ray of the lung. That mass was gone. What a miracle!”

Nancy’s complete recovery has everyone giving credit to whom credit is due. Dr. Wiley says, “The miracle behind the story is not so much that we are to get any glory from it but the fact is to let people know that God still heals and that miracles still happen.”

Today Nancy has another chance to be apart of those important “firsts” in her grandchildren’s lives. Nancy says, “To see my grandchildren laughing and giggling and crawling up in my lap… Thank you, God. “Nancy Caffee is not special. I’m not singled out as being better than anybody else. It can happen to anybody. You just claim it, believe and don’t let it go. You pray without ceasing until something happens. Because something is gonna happen and you don’t ever stop praying.”