In the summer of 1992, at the age of 74, my mother was diagnosed with uterine cancer. After having a hysterectomy she had radiation treatments for 25 consecutive days. The doctors told her that intestinal distress would be a side effect of the radiation, and that it could last as long as two weeks after treatment was completed.
In November the treatments were finished and my mother was experiencing the side effects she was told to expect. But instead of getting better she seemed to be getting worse. I didn’t know what to think. My uncle who was always joking and very upbeat took one look at her and started to cry. On Thanksgiving weekend she began to hallucinate. We later learned the hallucinating was the result of dehydration. My father and brother rushed her to the hospital emergency room. The diagnosis was a ruptured colon. She was a dying woman as she went into emergency surgery late that night. The doctor told us that it was one of the worst cases he had ever seen. He didn’t give us a lot of hope, he was telling us to prepare ourselves for her death.
When we realized the gravity of the situation I went, with my husband and daughter, into an empty room at the hospital and began to pray. I prayed within …
“Jesus, if my mother were to die tonight and if she were to go to heaven that would be alright with me because she’s very sick and she’s suffering. If she would go to be with you I know she would be much happier there than here in this world.” Then I prayed: “But Jesus, you know and I know that according to your Word, if she died tonight she would not be going to heaven because she’s not ready to die, she’s not born again. Please spare her life and give her more time to repent.”
We had been praying no longer than about 15 or 20 minutes when the phrase “a man under authority” from Matthew chapter 8 verse 9 came to me.
At that moment I knew that my mother was going to survive and that Jesus Christ would bring healing to her body and extend her life. I didn’t say anything to anyone, I was afraid to stop praying, but within a few moments my husband said “your mom is going to be OK” so we stopped praying and went back to be with the rest of the family.
When I woke up the next morning I began to doubt. Did I really hear from the Lord. Was my mother really going to live. I read the words of Jesus in John 4:48 . . . “Except ye see signs and wonders, ye will not believe”. Then I realized it was all about faith. I was doubting because I had not seen anything yet with my physical eyes. My mother had not hopped out of bed and said “I’m fine now, let’s go home”.
It was Sunday morning and we went back to the hospital. My mother was in intensive care recovering from the surgery. Her whole body was swollen and she had tubes everywhere. When I looked at her she reminded me of one of those helium filled balloons at the Thanksgiving Day parade. She really looked pretty awful. But she did recover. The Lord did spare her life. He did answer my prayer, and she lived for another 15 years!
Revelation 1:18 I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen; and have the keys of hell and of death.
See also …
Man Under Authority – II– My mother’s road to the Lord
Man Under Authority – III – What I spoke at my mother’s funeral service