Li-tea-ra-ture

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!