Prayer the Wonderful Healer

Carol RoachStarred Page By Carol Roach, 4th Feb 2015 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Health>Mind & Spirit>Mental Health

They say prayer is a wonderful healer and I have had several such experiences in my life. Here is a story from my childhood which was published in my book, Picking Up The Pieces: A Woman's Journey

Introduction

As a young girl growing up with an overprotective grandmother, life sometimes was not a healthy experience. My "ma" was everything to me, and I mean that literally. I had my aunts and uncles but none could compare to my ma.

My parents didn't want me

My dad lived with us until I was 5 years old and then he married a lady who did not like our family. Thus, the visits from my father became few and far between. In the early years, he would come back to see his princess, me, and then by the time I was nine, he no longer really knew his princess anymore.

My own mother was almost a stranger to me; I would see her periodically but was never comfortable with this woman at all. My ma (my grandmother) was my world. Therefore, because I was a little girl who was not wanted by her parents, my ma became overprotective, shielding me from hurt and the uncaring world I lived in.

A World of Adults

I lived alone with my ma. My uncles and aunts would visit, but they were all adults. I was never exposed to children. My ma never left the house and she never let me go and play in the yard with the children. She was too afraid that I would get lost, get hurt, or that some stranger would come and snatch me away. I was confined to the back porch on the second floor where we lived- isolated from the world.

I grew up in a world of adults and, as you know, adults are sometimes too busy for children.

It is funny that as a little girl I did not really care that much for dolls. They were inanimate objects, and though I had a great imagination, I wanted living things around me. I loved pets and we always had dogs. In the early years, my dogs became my childhood friends.

The first day of school

The first day of school, at the age of six, was a traumatic experience for me. I was sent to school alone, meaning without my ma, as she never left the house. However, I did have another child go with me who were starting school the same day. Renate, a friend of the family, was one such person. You can say that Renate was my very first friend.

It was also during that year that a new girl came to school. Her name was Brenda, and she came from another province altogether. She came from the province of Nova Scotia, while we lived in the province of Quebec, Canada.

Since we were both alone, we became friends. The Lord had answered my prayer, but he had done one better than that. Brenda came from a Christian family and she introduced me to the Lord. Since we were friends in school she started taking me to Sunday school with her. We attended "Welcome Hall Mission" and it was there, at the age of 9, that I gave myself to the Lord. I was born again.

Try as I might, I couldn't get Renate to like Brenda. Since Renate would not participate in anything that Brenda and I did together, I had to divide my time between them.

Mum got ill

Then a tragedy happened. The lady next door to us became extremely ill. Mum, as everyone called her, was a feisty Scottish lady of nearly 80 years old.

Everyone in the neighbourhood loved her. We listened to her stories of the old country and the impish things she did when she was a young girl. Everyone called her Mum. She was everyone's mum from ages 1 to 90.

One day Mum became very ill. No longer was the feisty lady dancing the jig and telling her stories. She was in bed, near death's doorstep. My ma couldn't bear to see her like that and she wouldn't give up on her.

My ma called several doctors to come and see her. In those days, the doctors still made house calls. The first two doctors told my ma that there was nothing to be done. The second doctor even said to think of Mum as an old car whose motor had died. My ma would not accept this kind of thinking as a reasonable answer. She was determined to find a doctor who would at least try to help and I was determined to pray and ask God to give us at least a little more time with her. I loved Mum almost as much as I loved Ma, and I prayed day and night.

The third doctor was the one who helped Mum. He examined her and found that she was carrying 100 pounds of water in her body. He rushed her to the hospital and pumped out her system. Mum was going to live!

Prayers answered

One night when I was home and Renate was visiting, I decided to witness to Renate. At first she was reluctant. She asked me,

"How do you know there is a God? You have no proof."

To which I replied with all the innocence of youth, "I know because I talk to Him."

Renate then said, "Yes but He never answers, does He?"

"Oh but you're wrong," I said. "He saved Mum and He will save you." I recounted the story of Mum to Renate.

That night Renate accepted Jesus as her Lord and Saviour.

Brenda, Renate, and I eventually became the best of friends. And I finally had the friends that I was looking for all my life. Incidentally, Mum lived another eight years.

All photos from Wikimedia Commons
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Tags

Healing Prayers, Prayers, Prayers For Healing, Praying

Meet the author

author avatar Carol Roach
Retired therapist and author of two books, freelance writer, newsletter editor, and blogger. I write, health, mental health, women's issues, animal , celebrity, history, and SEO articles.

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Comments

author avatar Harris Mungai
5th Feb 2015 (#)

For sure,prayer is an answer too everything.
Nice one.

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author avatar spirited
6th Feb 2015 (#)

prayer almost always works unless God's plan cannot be changed.

My own Dad survived many illnesses that we thought he would die from, because of such prayer, but then in the end it was really his time to go I suppose.

I enjoyed the read Carol.

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