They Called Him Oral

"If you want to be healed, stretch your hand toward your television set and repeat after me." 

I looked at mom as she stretched her hand toward the tv. I'm not saying I did, but I probably shook my head. I was getting ready for work. Night shift at Rockingham Poultry. It was 1986. It was hot. The trailer was stuffy. Mom was in pain. A broken ankle that wasn't set right in 1965 would swell up twice the normal size on any given day. Hot and humid or cold and damp, it didn't seem to matter. Her ankle was gonna swell.

This particular night, as she was praying along with Oral Roberts, I witnessed a miracle. Maybe it was how she was praying or the tv's blaring that got my attention, but I was looking at her ace-wrapped ankle. The bandage was too tight. It was leaving indents. I will never forget how that bandage slowly fell away from her ankle. There I stood, watching that thing appear to grow longer.  And in the remaining years of her life, I never-ever recall her complaining about her ankle. She was healed from that pain.

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So now it is my turn to ask believing for miracle healings. I am asking each of you to believe with me for a situation that needs resolved. A healing across our land. Across our families. A healing that can only come from God. No matter the specifics of the request- God knows all things- but I am asking you to lift our state's families up in prayer. For deliverance. For healing. For repentance. For eternity. I believe that now is the time for Christians to stop practicing Christianity and start living the faith walk. And I think we need to start right now. I will never be a Joyce Meyer or an Oral Roberts...but Dreama Kelly can still reach God's heart...and so can each of you.

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