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I could not see the car racing wildly down the road, because the car behind me-slowly edging me out of my parking place, was blocking my view of the left. What could I do? I completed the maneuver of pulling out onto the road, and the man behind me pulled into my place. Simple.

Not simple! The drunk who had swung around the nearby corner could not see me either because of the Lincoln which had "pushed" me out of my parking spot. He hit my driver's door with such an impact that he literally bounced off my car, hit another parked car, bounced off it, and hit a third before coming to a halt. It happened in front of an elementary school, and I thank God that school was not in session!

I don't remember the police or ambulance getting there. They couldn't get me out of the car, so they had to use the mechanical device to pry open the door. I don't remember the trip to the hospital. I remember two policemen standing to my left and saying, "Don't worry ma'am. We got him. He had 7 alias', and a long record. He won't get away with this! We're sorry!"

I remember the doctor telling me, "Although you are in your late twenties, you now have the spine of a seventy-year-old woman, and you will end up in a wheelchair before long. I hate to be the one to have to tell you, but the sooner you know the truth, the sooner you can deal with it."

There went my nursing career! There went my life! But then, I thought, "No! God will have the final say here-not you!"

For one year, I went to two hospitals, one therapist and two doctors each week. My life was gone, and I lived to go from doctor to doctor. They kept me so drugged that I sometimes barely recognized my own beloved son. My range of movement was virtually zero, and my son had to even tie my shoes for me. I got behind in my rent, because I could not work.

Then, one Sunday night at church, in the presence of my mother, my aunt, my son and Almighty God, my son tugged at my skirt and said, "Mom, why don't you ask God to "heaw" you?" It hit me like a bullet! My first thought was, "Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings Thou hast perfected praise!"

I hobbled up to the pastor. I asked him to pray for me. He asked, "Do you believe that God will heal you?" "Yes!" I replied wholeheartedly. He anointed my forehead and asked the church to pray with him for my healing.

It began at the top of my head and worked it's way down to my feet. It was a very warm, tingling feeling, and I had never felt anything like it before. I began to praise God! Suddenly, I felt all of my motor functions restored to me. I bent over and touched my toes! (Something I had not been able to do for more than a year!) I began to move and dance around for the sheer joy of being able to move again!

One of my doctors wrote on his file, "Healed by God!" Another demanded another MRI when he saw that I was once again whole and healthy. He refused to believe. I took the other MRI. He called me into his office when he got the films back. He asked me if I knew how to read them. "By now? Yes!" I responded. He could not speak a word as they revealed a perfectly healthy cervical and lumbar image where the last time had been the spine of that seventy year old woman in a woman in her late twenties! All he could say was, "I suppose you'll WANT these!" as he began jerking them down from the clips over the lighted wall.

"You bet!" I replied. "The world if full of people who don't believe in miracles-and they don't believe in Jesus Christ! Now-I have PROOF!"

Learn more about this author, Deborah Stewart.
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