My own journey is one of many ordeals, wonders, and mystery. After another major car accident in April 2022, I was diagnosed with rare stage 4 cancer of the appendix and given 1-1 ½ years to live—with gruesome hot chemotherapy. Because I enjoyed two nights of identical divine visitations before my oncology appointment, I refused. Jesus, angels, a crowd of humans, and dozens of animals, mostly cats and dogs, some that I recognized as having been my own, appeared in my bedroom weaving in and out, as I was watching TV.
The Word, who spoke the world and all that is into being, promised me healing of body, mind, and soul. He left with the promise contained in one of his names, “Jehovah Jireh,” meaning “God will provide.” This was the name that God spoke to the Patriarch Abraham, who did not doubt the Lord or his special guidance, even when called to sacrifice his beloved firstborn, Isaac. Because Abraham was faithful, passing even this ultimate test, God supplied a ram instead—and blessed him in countless ways.
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To this day, three and a half years after my diagnosis, I remain largely asymptomatic, with mostly sporadic structural pains caused by earlier accidents. My doctors and others consider me an anomaly. To them I say, “My miracle holds.” I understand the meaning of dying in Christ, living in Christ—and rising in him.
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Because I am a writer with a strong background in British and American literature, as well as the Bible and theology, you will see such interests reflected in my posts. Please subscribe and join over 1,000+ newsletter readers every week.