God Still Works Miracles–Part 3–Doctor Visits

September, 2013. My daughter, Bethany, and me on the Washington DC Metro.

The week after we returned from Philadelphia, I had two doctors’ appointments, both scheduled weeks and months earlier. The first was with my primary care physician who is a friend, believer, and member of my church.

I shared my testimony with the women who work in his office. All three of them marveled at the change in me. It also opened some doors for them to share some of their concerns with me, things I now keep on my prayer list.

Then, I found myself alone. I grabbed the notebook I always carry in my purse and recorded these thoughts:

As I sit here, waiting for Kevin to come in, I am experiencing some anxiety. I now have an idea of how Geoffrey felt as our breakfast ended. He recognized God’s voice and knew he had to be obedient to the command. But it didn’t keep him from feeling too nervous to ask me directly if he could pray for me, sending instead the Gideon from Maryland who was seated next to him.

 I’m sure Kevin will believe me because of his faith in Jesus. But I’m still nervous about the encounter. Will he just accept it? Will he doubt at first? I don’t know how he will react.

The knock came on the door. In response to his greeting, I said, “I’m terrific. Let me tell you what’s happened.” As I shared, Kevin acknowledged the power of prayer and how he has seen people recover through God working and answering prayer. But he admitted all cases involved a process of healing, rather than immediate.

He moved to the examination table, placed his stethoscope on my back, and told me to take a deep breath. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught an expression of wonder at what he heard. “You’re really moving a lot of air. And everything sounds clear—no crackles or wheezing,” he said. And his smile told me the rest.

The next day, I had an appointment with one of my specialists at the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center (UPMC) where I shared my testimony more times than I can count. I greeted the receptionists who immediately noticed I was missing my oxygen. Then came the nurse who escorted me back to do a six-minute walk. (This is a test where your pulse and oxygen saturation is continuously monitored while you walk as many laps as you can in a measured hallway in six minutes.) She couldn’t believe how well I was walking without the oxygen or the normal levels of my vitals. She allowed me to do the walk without the oxygen, but had a tank handy just in case.

I took off at a comfortable, sustainable pace. She smiled and laughed in amazement at my numbers each time I passed her. After it ended (no oxygen needed) she printed out the report and marveled at the fact that I had done better and walked farther than the previous three times with oxygen. She told me I’d made her day.

Next came the physician’s assistant. I was touched by the respect everyone showed toward my God story. By the same token, none could refute the observable and obvious change in me. Finally, came Dr. Mike. When I’d finished, he said, “Please have patience with those of us who are grounded in science and tend to be skeptical. But I will never say that science and medicine have all the answers.” But because he is a scientist and his main concern is for my health and well-being, he asked me to stay on my medications until I see him again in three months so he can be sure this “sticks”. During the exam, he also heard my lungs fill up the way they were supposed to and admitted that the numbers from the six-minute walk backed up the way I felt.

I know what he’ll find in three months, but I also understood where he was coming from. As a Christian most of my life, I’d never been acquainted with anyone who’d been dramatically healed nor did I know anyone who knew anyone to whom this had happened. The nature of a miracle lies in the fact it is so unexpected, so instantaneous, so wondrous that it can hard to comprehend, even for those of us grounded in faith.

We serve a God of power, love, and miracles. But, I know the Lord sustained me the past ten years because of the treatments prescribed by my doctors. God does use medicine and its technologies to heal. But I am living proof that miracles did not end with recorded scripture. God is still sovereign and still delights in miraculously healing His children.

Me with Phin 1

August, 2014. Me and Phin at home.

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God Still Works Miracles–Part One

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Susan Reith Swan, Geoffrey Sadyalunda, Tom Swan

July 24, 2014 is a day I will never forget. That morning, I hopped onto my mobility scooter, balanced the portable oxygen between my legs, and left the hotel room with my husband, Tom, to attend a breakfast session at the 2014 International Gideons Convention in Philadelphia, PA.  Little did either of us know that this breakfast would be a life-changer.

Our friends, Wayne and Josie, had saved us seats. There was one empty chair at our table. Minutes before the blessing, the man across from me waved to an African gentleman who was searching for a seat. He joined us, and I gave him a nod and smile of welcome. The tables, set for ten, and the noise in the room made it difficult to talk to anyone other than those close to me.

When the program ended two hours later, the man from the other side approached and told me that the African man would like to pray for me and wondered if I would be willing. I never turn down an opportunity for prayer!

The African man introduced himself as Geoffrey Sadyalunda. From his nametag, I saw he was from Malawi. “When I sat at the table and saw you,” he said, “I heard God telling me, ‘I want you to pray for this lady. I want to heal this lady. I want you to pray for her healing.’”

The wait staff rattled silverware and clanked dishes, making it less than optimal for prayer. We decided it would be better to go up to my hotel room. I buzzed to the elevator on the scooter, while Tom and Geoffrey followed.

Georfrey shared with us that God had given him the gift of healing and that he had been used by God as an instrument to heal others in Malawi. “When God directs me to pray,” he said, “I must do so.”

I took off my oxygen and sat in a chair. Tom stood to my side, his hand on my shoulder. Geoffrey stood in front of me, his hands on my head. He began to pray. His voice rose and filled with authority. I knew I was hearing the voice of God through him. In the name of Jesus, Geoffrey commanded the spirits of darkness and infirmity to leave me. He placed a hand on my chest, as though physically pushing the diseases from my lungs, commanding them to be gone. I don’t know how long he prayed for me.

When he finished, Geoffrey stood back, looked at me, and said, “I am 100% confident that you are completely healed. Take a deep breath.”

I drew in a deep breath—and for the first time in ten years felt my lungs fully inflate. I took another deep breath with the same result. The constriction that had been getting progressively worse was gone. I jumped up, sobbing, laughing, and praising God. I threw my arms around Tom and said, “I can breathe! Sweetheart, I CAN BREATHE!”

Geoffrey opened his Bible and read from Acts 3:1-10 where Peter and John heal the lame man through the power of Jesus. As he read, I sang the song from my old youth group days, “He went walking and leaping and praising God!” I knew just how he felt.

I walked around the room—no shortness of breath. My mind reeling, my heart rejoicing, the three of us left the room, leaving behind the scooter and my oxygen. I made the ten-minute walk to the convention center without having to stop, something I could not have done with my oxygen. The more I walked, the stronger I felt. I ran into several people on the way over who knew me and marveled and rejoiced with us. I wanted to shout it from the highest point in Philadelphia! I wanted people to know that God is good. I wanted—and needed—to give God the glory for my healing!

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