The following is a clear picture of the way God can and does prevent death and/or disaster.
In 1979 I was living in Norco, California with a successful piano restoring and refinishing business on La Sierra Ave. Everything seemed to be going smoothly. I invited my oldest daughter, Joanna to bring her husband and two teen-age boys over for dinner. During dinner, I felt a strong urge to evacuate the bowels, but it was nothing more than quite a lot of bright, red blood. Having been in fairly good health, I passed it off as maybe a scratch or something. When dinner was over, the urge came again with the same result. Now Jesus has ruled my life entirely, since my youth, and I depend on him for everything. This body has been given to the Lord Jesus, and I regard it as his temple. In the bathroom I said: Master, if this bleeding occurs again, I'll know it is your will for me to go to the hospital and get it attended to. (Otherwise I'd have known He had healed my body for his glory). Well, about nineteen minutes later it happened again, more blood, and I told my daughter "Joanna, you need to get me to the Hospital right away, I'm passing a lot of blood." Needless to say, they wasted no time, dropping the boys off at home on the way to the Corona Community Hospital. Because of the bleeding, I was taken into ICU Almost immediately. The doctor, upon examination, discovered a small hemorrhoid was bleeding. His exact words were, "This hemorrhoid is so small it never should have bled more than a drop or two, but the bleeding has called attention." With further examination, a very large polyp was found in the colon; too large to be removed through a scope. Surgery was performed the next day. The doctor had removed he hemorrhoid, and it was no longer a problem.
After the surgery, the surgeon came into my room and told me the polyp was pretty large, and had been sent to the lab for biopsy. In the report the next day, the doctor's comments have had me praising my Lord and Savior constantly ever since. The polyp, said the doctor, was malignant and had started to spread into the colon. He said in a matter of weeks I would have been dead, because it would have spread to my other organs. The doctor had to remove almost a foot of colon to get all of the cancer, but I'm vigorously alive because of it. Sure, the doctor saved my life, but if God hadn't caused that tiny hemorrhoid to bleed excessively, the cancer would have spread to my other organs, and my life would have ended with much suffering. I still depend on my Master, Jesus, for everything, even my very breath. Thank you Jesus.
Sent to Minister
In April 2004, in the late afternoon, I began to have a pain in the upper abdomen. Over the next hour it increased until it was pretty rough, and then it began to spasm. I would have about 3 or 4 minutes of absolutely no pain at all, then it would start, very light, and over the next one to one and-a-half minutes, the pain would increase to a peak that was a crescendo of agony for about 30 to 45 seconds, then very gradually decrease to zero pain again. After a half hour, thinking it might go away, but did not, it only got worse, I told my wife to call 9ll. Up to this point, this episode had occurred twice before in the past six months, and the diagnosis had been a possible twisted intestine that had managed to untwist itself. I had always gone to the same hospital, so my wife told the ambulance driver to take me there. Upon arrival, both ambulance bays were occupied and another ambulance waiting, so the driver simply turned and went to another hospital. I arrived there, rather noisy because of the pain, and the first thing the nurse asked me was who was my doctor. I told her and she called him, and he ordered me admitted, morphine to be administered immediately, and if not successful, re-administered, an IV started and I was to be given nothing by mouth. All this happened within five minutes, and shortly I was in a room with a gentleman about my age. I was in too much pain to do anything but groan, so I didn't communicate with the gentleman in the room. Soon the morphine took effect and I went to sleep, and slept until about one A.M. The gentleman next to me asked my name said he couldn't sleep, etc. I told him I felt I was in the hospital for some reason known only to God. He then informed me he was a retired Methodist minister and had ministered at the same church for nearly fifty years. He started to sing an old hymn and I joined him. We had a sort of competition to see who could sing a very old song that the other could not name. I enjoyed his company very much, and since the nurse had closed the door earlier, we praised and sang together. Finally he got sleepy and we joined together in the Lord's prayer, the 23rd psalm, and then individually prayed for our families, etc., and went to sleep.
The nurse came into our room, and I asked her if she knew my doctor and she said "sure, we all do, He was a resident here for several years." That was why I got attention so quickly in the emergency room. The hospital they took me to was Mercy Medical Center in Redding. This story can be verified there.
In the morning, we awoke, greeted each other, then greeted our Master, we joyfully sang a hymn and praised our Savior together and both of us began our individual Bible studying. Pretty soon, some doctors and nurses came in and surrounded his bed, and I discovered, from their conversation, that He had a blood clot behind one knee, and the doctors were clearly worried. It seems the clot could break loose at any moment and get to a lung resulting in instant death, or it could go to the brain and cause a massive stroke, equally carrying the ability to result in instant death. I understood they were afraid to operate, the surgery might cause the clot to break loose and it would probably be fatal. When the doctors and nurses left, I told him "Now I know why God sent me here. He sent me here to pray for you," He said, if you want to. I was connected to an IV, so I pushed it over by his bed, got out of bed went over and took his hand and prayed for Him. We both felt a powerful presence of the Lord in our room. In the meantime, a drink was given me that tasted like seven-up. Twelve hours later, it began to work and emptied me out. A little later my doctor came in and said I'd had impacted stool, The two previous diagnoses had been incorrect, and the problem was corrected. When I was told I could go home, My room mate's family were there, and the distress on their faces was obvious, his doctors were in another huddle. I was informed I would not have transportation for a couple of hours so I relaxed on the bed. The doctors left, the relatives all left, and my room mate and I had a sort of competition again, quoting verses of promise from the Bible. I don't remember the verses we quoted, but I DO remember that at the last, I quoted First John 5:14 and 15, which states that we have this confidence in Him, that if we ask anything according to His will, we know he heareth us, and if we know he hears us, whatsoever we ask, we know we HAVE the petition we asked of him. We discussed "what was according to his will" and I remarked that in John 14:13 Jesus said if we ask anything in his name, He will do it, therefore, the way to ask according to his will is to ask in his name. We know then that He hears us, and we have (Present tense) the petition we asked of him. I then told him I had prayed for him in the name of my Lord and Master, Jesus of Nazareth, and I told Him, in Jesus name, you ARE healed. He muttered something like "Yeah, I hope so" and I continued getting dressed in order to be ready when my ride arrived. In about a half hour, my daughter arrived and was assisting the nurse in getting the papers for my dismissal ready. At just that time, the head nurse came in and told my room mate, I have good news for you, you can go home now, the clot doesn't exist. My daughter was waiting outside the door with an armful of my things, so I just congratulated my room mate, said God bless you and left. He was a little dazed at the time, but I hope He reads this testimonial, and realizes that Jesus Christ, our redeemer is also our baptizer and HEALER. I was made to realize that though we are caused to bear afflictions, even many, if we regard every one as a victory for Jesus and another way to exalt his precious name, we are more than conquerors, since that's what the Word tells us.
God is More Powerful
On August 4, 2004, I awoke coughing blood. I told my wife who quickly called 911. The ambulance on arrival wasted no time loading and transporting me to the emergency room. In the emergency room they immediately started an IV with antibiotics. Of course, the diagnosis was pneumonia, and because my breathing was getting difficult and the temperature rising, they were very concerned about my survival. My pastor and brothers from my church family kept coming to pray for and with me.
Day by day my breathing became more difficult, and I became weaker and weaker. The volume of oxygen I was breathing had to be increased. My Children were alerted and flew to Anderson, California, our home, and they, along with my wife, were extremely worried about my chance of survival. On either the eleventh or twelfth of August (I'm not certain) I was not able to sleep. I watched television for a while, but had to lie on my left side as there was a drain tube in my back which drained off 3 litters of fluid. The tube was very uncomfortable and painful. I read my Bible a little while. The position I had to sit in to read was very uncomfortable, so I just laid back and gave my master, Jesus, praise and worship. From a previous experience 30 years earlier (and the subject of another testimony) I learned a very valuable lesson. God hears our first request for help (in the occasion of an illness, solution of a problem, unsaved loved ones, etc.) The Word tells us God inhabits our praises, and in another place it says "He heareth us," and what remains is to thank him for the answers and results. As I lay meditating at about two A.M. there began a rattle in my chest. Thinking I could dislodge it, I coughed and coughed, and the rattle just got worse. By then, the rattle scared me, and I raised my hands with what strength I had and began to praise God, and worship Jesus with as loud a voice as I could muster. I was alone in the room, and the night nurse could see me from the nurses station, and she had left the station and was coming into my room. I stopped praising for a moment, and she said I came to pray with you. I didn't know what she had seen on the monitor, but I continued praising, and talking to God in my heavenly language. Even in sickness, our Master is near, and I could sense his presence in my room. From the very first day, my family at my church, Faith Tabernacle, had been praying for me, along with the group at a prayer breakfast I always attend each week. A prayer chain was praying for me, the different churches that three daughters and my son were attending were all praying for me, and the Holy Spirit through heavenly language, was interceding for me. At that hour of the morning, nothing happened except that awful rattle, which also alarmed the nurses. The rattle continued, and I didn't know from two A.M. until mid afternoon whether the next breath would be my last Sometime in the afternoon I fell asleep for a few hours, and when I awoke, the rattle was gone, and I was hungry. From that time I began regaining strength. My condition steadily improved until on the 19th the doctor came in to remove the drain tube from my back and it had already fallen out. The doctor said what was necessary now was to recuperate for about ten days and come back to the clinic because I had a mass on one lung. He said they had tried every antibiotic know to man, and nothing was able to effect the mass on my lung. I was to return and he said they would use a tube through my nose to take a biopsy of the mass, and then maybe know what to do, and he signed my release.
After helping me dress, my wife helped me out of bed, and my legs were too weak to get out of the bed and onto a wheelchair without help. My daughter was there, and they brought me home, but I required that I remain on oxygen 24 hours a day. On Sunday, three days later, I was in church, and told my Pastor, "I'm GONNA have my miracle." All my relatives, friends and loved ones, including the creator of this website, were praying for me. I was convinced God hears our call, and continued giving Him praise and thanksgiving. In that room alone with death rattle, I had promised God if He would heal me, I will go anywhere or do anything he calls me to do, I just want to know the call is from my Master.
Still breathing oxygen, I went with my wife to the Doctor's clinic in September. The first thing the receptionist said was "The Doctor wants you to go downstairs and get chest X-rays first." I went down for the X-rays, returned to the Doctor's office and handed in the X-rays. In about 5 minutes we were shown to a room, where we waited another 5 or 6 minutes, at which point, the Doctor came in and said "Remarkable - - remarkable." I said what's remarkable, and he said "there's nothing there." Not only that, pneumonia always leaves a scar, and there was not even a scar. Furthermore, they checked the oxygen level in my blood, and after having been off oxygen for more than 30 minutes and the lungs functioning perfectly, the doctor said "You don't need the oxygen, either?"
Once again, My Master led me along a rocky path that had a huge mountain in the way, and God was simply the ONLY way and infinitely bigger than any mountain and more powerful than any adversary that can get in my way. He controls the paths of a hundred thousand galaxies bigger than ours, the Creator of all those galaxies cared about me and raised me back on my feet, praise His holy and glorious name.
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