healing – Page 4 – A Million God Stories

#66 Let The Lord Take THE Position

June 6, 2020January 11, 2017 by pamamilliongodstoriescom

Photo by Trevor Rapp

I’ve struggled for some time now with taking what I like to call THE position. It’s evident that the Lord has given me His heart of compassion and mercy. But sometimes I overstep my boundaries as a burden carrier. Recently a loved one confessed an addiction to heroin. I was immediately confused. How was I not aware? How has this been hidden?

I began to curse drugs and drug dealers. I was hurt. If you couldn’t guess, my next thought was to walk through the battle of healing with this loved one. I wanted to see restoration. I wanted to see transformation. These hopes aren’t wrong but I began to take ownership, THE position, of this process. For several weeks the Lord taught me what it was like to care from a place of prayer—to intercede and not intervene. With prayer, I was able to weep, bring my doubts, fears, and requests and see the LORD comfort me but also begin to bring EXTRAORDINARY healing.

Healing is real. I learned during this family crisis that God is alive and still healing. Addiction wouldn’t have the authority in this story. My family was able to take a position in this loved one’s life through prayer and was able to discern when to step in and do whatever the Lord asked of us. I’m making this sound easy, but addiction is hard and being free from it is a process. But victory is possible! The Lord is still healing people today. Take your proper position and let the Lord take THE position.

A Million God Stories is a Christ-centered ministry which offers a platform for Christians from all streams of Christian faith to give praise for how God has worked in their lives. Christ heals in infinitely creative ways and we acknowledge that His way of helping may differ from person to person.

#64 The Great Physician

June 6, 2020January 6, 2017 by pamamilliongodstoriescom

Photo by Erin Drysdale, Erin E Photography

A fear and dread washed over me. The doctor had just told me that soon my mom may need to be transferred out of intensive care at the hospital to an institution if she didn’t start to breathe on her own. I was confused and intimidated by the doctor and didn’t know what to say or ask. Later, I asked the respiratory therapist that was suctioning out mom’s windpipe what the doctor meant. She explained that people could only be kept in intensive care for a certain number of days and couldn’t be transferred to a regular hospital room if they were still on a respirator. If after the designated number of days a patient still needed a respirator to breathe, they had to be transferred out, often to a “vent farm,” which was a facility much like a nursing home, except all people were hooked up to respirators.

I could not get the words “vent farm” out of my head. The words repulsed me. Why would they call a place for people who had been the victims of terrible tragedies by such an awful name? Mom was in a coma after a terrible car accident and the doctors didn’t know if she would ever “wake up.” She had not been able to breathe on her own since that awful day two weeks ago. Every time the doctor tested to see if she could breathe on her own by taking her off the respirator, her blood pressure would go up so high, the doctor feared she would have a stroke and was forced to place her back on a respirator. Her body was working so hard just to breathe. Again and again they tried, but she just couldn’t do it. The doctor said soon he would give up on her ever being able to breathe on her own. This terrified me.

On September 16 the doctors told us they would test mom’s ability to breathe one last time. I didn’t know what to do except to pray. I asked as many people as I could think of to pray for her. Our family and friends also asked people to pray so that people who didn’t even know Mom were praying for her. Neighbors, people in churches, teachers and students in schools, mom’s high school classmates and friends, my 80-year-old father’s classmates and friends, people in different workplaces all over the US and even in Japan—all were praying for Mom to successfully breathe on her own on September 17, the day of the final breathing test.

That morning the respirator was turned off. My cousin stood on one side of the bed, holding her hand, and I stood on the other side, holding her hand. We stood silently and watched the clock and prayed for her to breathe. We watched the blood pressure monitor. She breathed an hour, then another. We watched the monitor that showed how much oxygen her body was getting. It was good. She breathed another hour and another. We stood all day watching her, watching the clock and praying. And by nightfall she was proclaimed to be successful at breathing on her own! Praise to God for answered prayers for her breathing! Thanks be to Jesus, the Great Physician, for this miracle of healing for my mom!

#63 God Is Closer Than Our Breath

June 6, 2020January 4, 2017 by pamamilliongodstoriescom

Photo by Ashely Brown, Shining Light Photography

In 2007 I was a college student living in Indiana. For some time I had struggled with seasonal affective disorder. I was in a relationship that didn’t work out and I spiraled into depression. It was a very dark time. I was exhausted, sleeping all the time, failing classes and late to important commitments. I even had suicidal thoughts. I feared that this oppressive darkness might never leave me.

During this time I was invited to a church service where a team from Bethel Church in Redding, CA was visiting my church, leading a healing meeting. I prayed, “God, if it’s Your time to heal me, please do it.” One of the leaders at the church said, “If you need healing, stand up.” I stood up and a woman came to me and prayed over me. She powerfully declared God’s love over me and I felt the love of God shattering through the darkness. It is difficult to describe but it was as if a huge weight had been lifted from me.

The next day I was driving home for Thanksgiving and listening to a message from one of the Bethel leaders. It was a sermon about being a child in God’s kingdom. I felt God’s presence so strongly, as if He had stepped into my car. I started weeping as I felt a tingle on my head and heard God say, “I’m healing you; I’m healing the chemical imbalance in your brain.” I had never experienced God in that way.

That same day I had an appointment with my doctor about changing my depression medication. He changed my medication and I got the new prescription filled. But I truly felt I had been healed of my depression. About a month later, I stopped taking the depression medication and the Lord took me on a journey of inner healing. I began to pursue God more than ever before. I learned that I am not powerless or a victim. I know that Jesus is right there with me when hard times come. Depression is not a part of who I am at all anymore. God has completely delivered me from it.

God is more good and loving than we know, and so willing and ready to show His love. He is not a distant God. He is closer than our breath; He is right next to us.

You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing your praises and not be silent. Lord my God, I will praise you forever. Psalm 30:11–12

#61 “Rediscover” Coffee

June 6, 2020December 30, 2016 by pamamilliongodstoriescom

Photo by Ashely Brown, Shining Light Photography

I grew up in Vermont not going to church until sixth grade when my mom met a Baptist pastor that lived down the street from us. We started attending his church, but when he moved south we stopped going.

I knew there was something bigger, but God wasn’t significant in my life until my early thirties. I started to feel something was missing in my life. I felt like God needed to lead my life and I began to go to church. In 2008, the company I worked for offered me the opportunity to go to Australia and work. I immediately said yes, as I felt God was calling me to go so that he could heal me and prepare me for my future.

Meanwhile, one of my business clients who lived in California kept talking to me about a man she felt God was leading her to tell me about. I knew I would be moving to Australia soon so I really didn’t think it was a good time to meet someone. But on Valentine’s Day I was out with friends and they talked me into texting her and asking her for a photo of him. He was with her at the time and she sent his photo and I sent my photo back to him. I told him I would be leaving for Australia in just a couple of months. But we began communicating often.

Then my paperwork for departure was delayed and so he flew to Rhode Island, where I was living, to meet me. It was the most magical weekend of my life. I knew I had met The One. In May, I flew to California to see him and he proposed. Shortly after, my paperwork was approved and I moved to Australia.

I knew no one, but I found a church and went every Sunday. I woke up every morning and read Scripture, walked to and from work praying, and then read Scripture again at night. There was so much healing, forgiveness, and acceptance during this time. I don’t think I could have had a healthy relationship if I hadn’t had time to heal. In December 2008, I returned to the states working for the same company, and in January 2009 we were married. I was able to work from home so I could live in California with my husband who was a winemaker there.

Two sons followed and I continued to work from home for the same company, which was a true blessing. But my husband and I felt that someday we would work together in hospitality. We thought it would be in the wine business, and our church family had prayed for us and told us the same thing but that it would be something parallel to winemaking.

In 2010, we went to visit his family in South Africa. We visited wineries and one had a coffee roastery. While we sipped our cappuccinos and looked around, we both felt “This is it. This is what we are supposed to do.” Then somewhat randomly my husband met up with a friend from high school that he hadn’t seen for years and he told us about a man who was opening a coffee roastery in Cape Town. We went to Cape Town and ended up touring some very hip coffee shops. In the airport on the way home we were thinking about what to name our coffee business. There was a sign that said Daily Offerings. That was it.

In 2011, we bought a coffee roaster, put it in our kitchen, and began roasting. We both completed barista and roasting training. I began selling coffee at farmer’s markets and wine events. Interestingly, coffee roasting and wine making are similar (parallel, you could say). My husband is a soil scientist, and for both coffee roasting and winemaking, you must know about the type of soil and growing conditions and how this impacts the flavor. For both coffee roasting and winemaking, you must be able to execute the right process to bring out maximum flavor, and finally, you must have the palate to be able to taste and pick out the notes in both coffee and wine.

By 2014, we had decided California was not where our new coffee business would be. My grandparents and uncle lived in a small town in Kentucky and we visited regularly. We really liked Kentucky and felt sad when we had to leave. It felt like home. We decided Kentucky was the place and both felt Lexington was the city. My husband found a space downtown across from the convention center. After we opened, we really saw what God’s intention was. We never set out to become a “Christian coffee shop.” Our business plan was to teach people about coffee and our tag line was “rediscover coffee,” but “rediscover” meant something else. God led us to start worship nights. Some people have even accepted Christ here. One particular day we had about 15 customers and every one of them was focused on God. Pastors meeting, people praying over one another, another reading the Bible. One of the customers said to me, “Do you feel it? The Holy Spirit is so thick in here right now!” I just started crying. Even non-Christians say they like the feeling here.

We left our financial security, our jobs, our home, our friends, to start over completely. We were operating on faith. We trusted that God brought us to this place for a purpose and we see Him daily working through our business. We pray, believe, and trust in Him—and He is faithful.

#50. Out Of Deep Waters

July 17, 2020December 2, 2016 by pamamilliongodstoriescom

Photo by Trevor Rapp

On June 15, 2000, I was four years old, the middle of five children, living in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. My family was attending an end-of-the-year baseball pool party for my brother. At some point everyone went inside and I was alone by the pool. I don’t remember falling into the deep end…

They frantically searched for me. My mom looked for me in the pool but didn’t see me. More searching, more panic. Seven minutes had passed and my mom heard a voice. “Check the pool. Check the pool.” She did and this time saw my red swimming trunks.

They pulled me out. My belly was swollen, full of water. I was purple. I did not have a pulse. My father is a doctor and began giving me CPR. An ambulance was called and EMS took me to the hospital where they told my parents I was dead with less than one percent chance I could be brought back to life. Somehow, miraculously, they decided to fly me to Children’s Hospital in Birmingham. The doctor who took care of me that night was named Dr. Buckmaster. Even though others had given me up for dead, Dr. Buckmaster did not. He was persistent, refusing to give up. But there was so much water in my brain…

During this time I received an unbelievable gift from God. An angel—a warm and comforting figure bathed in light and clothed in white, came to me, picked me up, and took me to a massive ladder. We went up the ladder, and when we got to the surface, we stepped onto a glass floor. Jesus met me there. He was smiling and it was the best feeling of my entire life. I have never experienced anything like it since. Absolute joy. Like being wrapped up in a giant hug with absolute protection and not a care in the world. We approached a massive door with jewels on it and opened it. I saw my Uncle Mark who had died six months before. When he died he had cancer and was so sick. I remember his face had bumps on it when he died. But when I saw him he was perfectly well and healthy. I asked him if he wanted to go back to earth but he did not. My Uncle Mark and Jesus told me it wasn’t my time yet.

Dr. Buckmaster kept working to try to save me. Overnight it had looked so bad…but at some point things inexplicably turned around for me. The water in my brain miraculously disappeared. My parents had been told that in the unlikely event that I did survive, I would have serious problems and would be in a wheelchair the rest of my life. But that didn’t happen. I am perfectly healthy and strong with no damage whatsoever from the drowning experience. I am now a junior in college with a 3.5 GPA. It’s like it never happened.

But it did happen, and I thank God for this experience because now I have assurance that God is absolutely real. God miraculously saved my life. God is a Healer and His power is unimaginable, incomprehensible.

Two final interesting notes…

First, my Uncle Mark that I saw in heaven was a massive hunter. His nickname—Buckmaster.

Second, many people were praying for me during this time. My mom was overwhelmed with sadness and worry, and at one point when my situation looked hopeless, she prayed that God would show her something in His Word to help her. She opened her Bible and this was the verse before her that gave her great comfort and let her know I would be okay.

“He reached down from heaven and rescued me; he drew me out of deep waters.” Psalm 18:16

#48 A Medley Of Human Empathy

June 6, 2020November 28, 2016 by pamamilliongodstoriescom

Photo by Nick Key Photography

But it hit, for him, out of nowhere.

A healthy life, a wife, a little daughter, ministry, work. God had always provided but this was nothing like the former. It was the ordinary and unthinkable: cancer. And over a matter of weeks a world that was common and nurturing plummeted into groggy confusion. Normal disappeared. It was just survival: shaking, feverish, cold. But though life felt remote, heaven did not appear. That escape seemed to brush reality with weightless fingers and then disappear into isolation. For life did not remove disease and neither did disease remove life.

And that was what suffocated: the isolation. No one could really comprehend the pain of it, the reality of being lost in lifelessness but still, oddly, alive. Misunderstanding hit, maybe, harder than disease. Explaining it was like trying to describe a dream where why and how and what were loosely dangling from everywhere but general comprehension.

There was also the experience of trying to fit a conversation about a life unmade but not hopeless within the tiny box called small talk. They would ask how he was. But the few seconds of “Hello, how are you?” weren’t enough to tell the truth and a white lie seemed conventionally non-transparent. It caused him to feel other than himself. It was tough to be truly honest in those situations. You’d run the risk of sounding totally depressed on one hand or trite on the other. And he was neither.

But there were those thousands of pieces, placed with divine intention, into life and into disease, just the same.

That was the beautiful thing. People were influence for the heart of God, which is presence. It was a real “with us” kind of emergence. The un-shattering and unification of interconnected humanity. There were tiny bits of God darting in through a reality of living compassion and kindness, each an easy passageway into rampant grace. As each person embodied the real, the Real arose. It was Jehovah shooting alive through lips and acts and living bodies.

Though the Father did, in the end, give health – this wasn’t the care that really struck. A Provider was named and the name was “He Sees Me.”[1] And his eyes were, somehow, human and many.

And, though she’d always been there, a woman emerged as rock. She was embodying the vows of marriage even as he did – in cancer and in clarity, sickness and health. The essential combining of the couple emerged in ways that had been, before, unseen. The practicality – the behind the scenes of cancer – was cared for with loving kindness. He was survivor, and she managed it all – the keeper of order, of life. God was seen, through her dedication, as Destroyer of Chaos.

And a small girl emerged. This was the joy! The shining and small, curly haired toddler was his and she knew nothing other than true, glistening life. Death and sorrow and pleasurelessness were not found within her own youth. And so the beauty of child-like and beautiful ignorance danced to a beat different than pain and isolation. She was a bright gift from the Immortal to temporal. From Daddy to daddy the blessing was daughter. And her laughter made life brilliant within the shadowed lair of cancer. The Spirit of God glowed warm.

The impossible began to take place. In a way, the wholeness was always there – the fragments were always together. The pieces of kindness and understanding, laughter and practicality fit together into the shape of God. The God who sees! The God who could be seen through created image working out his kindness. Piece by piece the shattered leapt up and lived! It became bright, a medley of human empathy beating out the presence of God.

[1] Genesis 16:13; El-roi

#38. Ultimate Healing

June 6, 2020November 4, 2016 by pamamilliongodstoriescom

Photo by Jeff Rogers Photography

Jeff has an unwavering faith and a deep love for God. A few years ago he lost his wife of over 20 years to cancer. As he talks of Sally, he smiles and tears fill his eyes. It is clear that he loved her very much.

Yet as I sat across from him at the Starbucks table, his joy and hope were palpable. Sally’s diagnosis had been a surprise. A petite woman, beautiful inside and out, curly hair, dimples, a zest for life, a dancer, and the picture of health. How could she possibly have had a stage four cancerous tumor the size of an orange on her ovary? Her treatment included surgery, then chemo, then radiation.

Right before Sally’s surgery, while Jeff was praying with a friend for her, he had a vision of Jesus walking down the hospital hallway holding Sally’s hand. She was a child, about five years old, and in a hospital gown, but Jeff knew it was Sally. This was such a comfort and reassurance—Jesus was with her.

The treatments appeared to have worked and Sally was better. During this time, God led Jeff and Sally to begin a healing ministry as part of a small Methodist church they were attending. God healed many people through their ministry. But Sally’s cancer came back and though many prayers for healing were prayed for her, she was not healed—at least not on earth. Instead, she received the ultimate healing—in a place of no death, no tears, and no pain.

Six months before her death, while Jeff was praying, he heard the Lord say, “Release her to me.” Jeff knew what this meant and he did release her, but he didn’t stop praying for her and he continued to praise God. Even in this sorrow, God gave Jeff great comfort and hope. The cancer spread to Sally’s liver and she passed quickly. It was a holy moment . . . at home with Jeff on one side and her sister on the other side, praying for Jesus to take her to Him. It happened only three days after their 20-year anniversary—a milestone that was so important to Sally because this was a second marriage for both of them.

In the months that followed, Jeff suffered great sadness, but God brought a kind couple, Matthew and Nancy, to Jeff to minister to him during his grief and brokenness. One night, Matthew, an ER physician, was speaking at a local church and asked Jeff, who is a photographer, to photograph the event. Matthew had been invited to speak by another ER physician, Missy. After the event, Matthew introduced Jeff to Missy. There was an immediate connection. Shortly after their first date, while in France, Jeff took a photo of two trees intertwined and sent it to Missy. He knew that it was God’s will for him to be with Missy. God had orchestrated their meeting and brought them together. Their marriage has been an incredible gift to both of them and they are both profoundly grateful to God. Missy had never been married and knows that if Jeff had not lost Sally, she would not have this gift. She loves Sally too, through Jeff, and can’t wait for the three of them to be in heaven together some day.

God is faithful; He brings good out of pain. He comforts and provides peace, hope, joy, and love.

#33. God Of The Impossible

June 6, 2020October 24, 2016 by pamamilliongodstoriescom

Photo by Nicole Tarpoff

I have been healthy all my life—until August 2015. It started with cold-like symptoms. I went to the doctor and was diagnosed with an upper respiratory infection, but after a few days I got worse. I went to the ER and the doctor said I had a virus and to let it run its course.

I continued to feel worse but made myself go to work. My symptoms began to change. I broke out in a rash on my arms, and my lymph nodes in my armpits and on the back of my head swelled to the size of golf balls. I went back to the doctor the next day, and he did bloodwork. That night he called me and told me that my white blood cell count was over 100,000 and that normal is 10,000. He told me that I needed to be admitted to the hospital immediately and that I would be getting a call from the admissions office of the cancer center shortly because I had leukemia.

I didn’t panic like I thought I would. In one ear I could hear what the doctor was saying, but in the other ear, I heard a small voice say, “It’s okay.” I had peace. I started packing my bags and heard that voice again, “It’s okay.”

The first thing they did was a bone marrow biopsy, but something went very wrong. I was in terrible pain. They had to call in the chief of staff to take over. They had wanted to start the chemo as soon as possible but had to wait because of the complications from the bone marrow biopsy. I developed a serious infection that raged through my entire body. The infection even filled my stomach and I had to have a tube inserted through my nose into my stomach to pump out the infection. I had a dangerously high fever, which was destroying the cells in my body. They gave me ice baths and antibiotics but couldn’t get the fevers down.

Finally God brought the fever down and they were able to start the chemo one week after I was admitted. But then another problem…they placed a line in my arm to give me the chemo drugs and I developed blood clots, which started to travel through my bloodstream. This was life-threatening, as the clot could lodge in the heart, lung, or brain. They started me on blood thinner injections three times a day in my stomach. The chemo drugs were given to me continuously, 24 hours a day for seven days. This made me so sick. I had a reaction to the chemo and more high fevers with nearly constant vomiting.

Through this all I had a peace. I was praying and kept hearing, “It’s going to be okay.” Many people were praying for me. My father is a pastor as was his father before him, so I had a close relationship with God and knew how to pray. My sister was documenting what was happening with me on Facebook and thousands of people were following what was going on and were praying for me. People from all over the country were sending me messages of encouragement and praying for my healing, telling me how they were inspired and their faith had increased because of my story.

I was supposed to have four rounds of chemo, and after the first round, they did a bone marrow biopsy to see if the chemo had any effect. Miraculously, there was no sign of leukemia in the bone marrow! None! The doctors said the results were astounding to them. It is very rare for a person with my type of leukemia to be cured after only one round of chemo. It was so unexpected that the doctors said, “It wasn’t us. It had to be a greater power.”

Even though there was no sign of leukemia, the doctors wanted to make sure everything was gone, so I went through more chemo. My immune system was wiped out and I had to wear a mask all the time. I got a bad infection in my thumb and arm and had to have multiple blood transfusions, but I stayed positive, kept a smile on my face, and praised God through it all.

After two more biopsies and still no leukemia, my doctor gave me a clean bill of health and said I didn’t need the last round of chemo because my results were so good. God delivered me not only from the mental anguish and physical pain and disease, but also from financial struggle. I was unable to work for 10½ months and my medical leave had run out. I was down to my last penny and my coworkers came to my house and gave me $2,000 they had raised through a fundraiser at work for me—where people paid five dollars to wear jeans for a week. This program is continuing today and my coworkers now vote on different people to benefit from this money in my honor every month.

I now have a whole new outlook on life. Little things that would have stressed me out or made me angry don’t bother me anymore. I have become a more grateful person. And I have learned that there is nothing too hard for God. He is a God of the impossible. No matter how dark it may seem, no matter how bad the diagnosis, God is able to change the prognosis.

#32 A Sign Of Answered Prayers

June 6, 2020October 21, 2016 by pamamilliongodstoriescom

Photo by Erin E. Photography

Thursday, September 6, 2012, was like so many other Thursdays. I drove the 40 miles to care for my grandchildren. We spent the day together, had dinner with their mom, my daughter, then I drove the 40 miles back home.

That’s when things got very interesting.

Our neighbor across the street was having trouble getting his car in their garage. My husband and I went over to see if we could help. His wife and I stood on his lawn and my husband was some distance behind the neighbor’s car. Then it happened. I went blank—unconscious, actually. The neighbor had accidentally hit me with his moving car.

I remained unconscious for over a month and amnesic even longer. When I awoke, weeks later, I knew I was in the hospital. I asked my family what had happened and where I was. My daughter explained I had been at the hospital in ICU for four weeks and then transferred to a rehabilitation hospital a few weeks ago. I would be going home soon. That explained part of the mystery, but what had happened to me? Why the extensive stay and care? I soon learned that I had received extensive damage to my body, including many broken bones and head injuries with brain damage and blindness in my left eye. I realized I was very limited in my ability to function or remember.

When they released me home a few weeks later, it was with a potty chair and walker plus a list of appointments with various doctors and therapists—speech, physical, and so on. I am a retired registered nurse, having worked in surgery, recovery room, emergency room, as well as on the floor with patients. I had an awareness of my situation, somewhat. Only when I was home and read my medical reports did I appreciate the extent of my blessings. When I read the reports, I cried. For the first time, I realized how close I had been to death. From my nursing experience, I knew that a person with my injuries could have died. I realized God had given me another chance.

I have been a faithful Christian throughout my life—no smoking or drinking, and working in a church community and doing my daily devotions. Before the accident, I had been very strong and healthy, and because of the wide range of my activities in the community, many people knew me and prayed for me after my injury. My family and their many friends had also prayed for me for weeks.

Gradually, I realized what an extraordinary blessing God had given me. I had not prayed for myself because I had been unconscious and amnesic when I woke up. God answered the prayers of many people on my behalf. God continues to bless me. When the people in my community see me, they, too, know their prayers were answered.

#30 Thankful For The Pain

June 6, 2020October 17, 2016 by pamamilliongodstoriescom

Photo by Nicole Tarpoff

I am a runner, and this story is about how God used running and something else—really, someone else—to heal me from one of the greatest pains in my life.

A little backstory…

My church has a ministry that reaches out to women—dancers in the sex industry in local strip clubs. I am a massage therapist, and in 2007 I was asked by the church to provide massage therapy for the women this ministry served. I agreed and approached it very casually. I wasn’t worried about it. After all, I had been in bars before. How different could this be?

But it was very different and made me very uncomfortable. As I was providing the massage therapy for the women, the thoughts I had were so disturbing. I wanted to stop, to leave. I thought, “Why did I agree to do this?”

And then I felt Jesus saying, “Don’t you know if I were still on this earth in flesh I would be here?”

I had been viewing the women through my eyes, but Jesus gave me His lens. It was then that I could truly see the women and my heart broke for them. A seed was planted that day and I wanted to serve them and help them. I knew I couldn’t go back into the clubs to help—I had terrible dreams for weeks after my visit—so I asked God to show me how to help.

This experience—this softening of my heart for this specific group of women—was used to prepare me for what was to come. The next year, my marriage came to an end due to my former spouse failing in various areas of sexual sin. I was devastated. We divorced, and for months, I was in a pit of despair. In the midst of all of this, I had planned to run a race but I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t eating. I wasn’t healthy. Everything was about “that thing” that had happened to me.

Finally, I felt God saying, “Let’s get the focus off of you.” I felt as though I should start running again; specifically, I felt that I should run in a race to raise money for women at the Refuge for Women, a place that provides a safe haven for sexually exploited women.

I called the director of the Refuge and told him I felt like God wanted me to run a race to raise money for the women. There was a long pause on the line and then he said, “We just had our first board meeting, and during the meeting we prayed that the Lord would press upon the hearts of ordinary people to raise awareness and money for this ministry—and then you call and tell me this!”

The Lord gave me visions that I would conduct my own races for the women at the Refuge and put teams together to race and even run with some of the women served by the Refuge. All of this has come to pass. Running that first race was particularly healing for me.

But there was another run—a training run—that I will never forget. I was training for a marathon and had gone to visit my parents at their farm in Ohio. I needed to run 18 miles the next morning, which proved difficult given their location and many country lanes/roads. I carefully planned my running course from my parent’s dairy farm to the little town of Bryan, Ohio, and wrote the directions on my hand.

I got to mile 15 in the little town and there was a big detour sign. I couldn’t get through. I had to choose a different road. I soon came upon a Dum Dum sucker factory. It was early Sunday morning and the parking lot was deserted. But in the distance I could see a person sitting on the concrete with their head down. As I got closer, I could see it was woman in high heels and a mini-skirt who looked like she had had a really “rough” night. I didn’t want to, but I felt God urging me to go to her.

I took off my headphones and walked over to her, “Excuse me, are you okay?”

“No, I’m not,” she said.

“What can I do to help you?” I asked.

“I’m lost. My phone is broke and my boyfriend doesn’t know how to find me.”

“How long have you been sitting here?”

“I don’t know.”

“How did you get here?”

“I don’t know.”

The factory was in the middle of a residential area.

“Why haven’t you gone to one of the houses to ask for help?”

“Have you looked at me?”

“Well, I’m here to help you.” She used my phone to call her boyfriend and I asked her if I could stay with her until he came. She said I could. Then I asked if I could pray for her and she said yes. I prayed for her and soon her boyfriend arrived. He was very thankful. I offered them money but they said they didn’t need money.

What are the chances that I would encounter this woman? I could have chosen many weekends to visit my parents. I could have chosen a different road at the detour. But I chose the one that led me to this woman. I believe it was God’s plan to lead me to women that represented an industry that had destroyed my marriage and nearly destroyed me—a painful reminder of a hurtful time in my life. But again, Jesus gave me His eyes and His compassion. He used this experience, this encounter with her, to heal me.

When I think about what I am most thankful for, there are so many things. Perhaps it sounds weird to say I am thankful for the pain—but I am. This current version of me is much better than the version of me before. God had a “beauty out of ashes” plan for me—and only God can come up with that kind of plan.