by Wendy Lafond

Created on: February 26, 2008

This is my testimony on the power of prayer to heal and to help.

Any time that my faith starts to dim. Or I begin to wonder if God is listening to me, all I have to do is remember that warm spring day back in June, 1984. It reminds me of the power of prayer. Of God's love for us. And how he will use us to work in lives we may not even know.

We lived in northern Wisconsin. Our friend George had come up from Indianapolis to visit. It was the day he had to return to go back to work. My kids dad was taking him to the bus station. We had a 1972 Chevy Impala 4-door.

We had made a play area for the kids in the side yard. We had three children. Stef was almost 4, Roger was 2, and T.J. was 15 months old. They had a slide, swing set, sand box, merry-go-round, and a couple park style bouncy toys. It was like their own little park at home. But, we had not gotten the fence up yet. We also had a little dog. His name was Scruples. The four of them were playing in their park as we were helping George get his things together to go home.

My cousin Dan was staying with us at the time. And our friend Ron had stopped by to bid George farewell. Our house was situated in that gray area, on the edge of town, on the edge of the country. We still had a country driveway. Long and dirt, with a y-shaped turn around just past the house. For some reason, Tom, my kids dad, never liked to use the turn around. He preferred to back out of the driveway. This would prove to be the day that changed that.

Tom and George were in the car, everyone said their goodbyes. I had just checked on the kids. Stef and Roger were in the sand box, T.J. was by the slide. I was getting ready to go help T.J. so he didn't fall. As Tom started to back up, I got his attention. We needed bread for supper, would he pick some up on his way home? He went to leave again and we all heard the sickening thump. Oh, no, I thought, as I rushed to get around the car. I thought my three small children had just witnessed their little dog being run over. When I came around the back of that car, I wished it had been the dog. My little boy lay trapped under the rear wheel of the car.

At first, I was just sure he was dead. But instead of the panic that I expected, I felt a calm that I knew could only be from the Lord. The tire was pinning him to the ground. He was only 15 months old and very small for his age. His skin was being forced into the tread of the tire, his shorts and diaper had blown out from the pressure and there was

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