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Practicing one's religion requires faith and faith-building efforts. We use prayer, scripture reading, meditation, and a combination of all three to make our faith grow, hopefully. But what a very great and unforgettable joy it is during those moments when we know. We no longer simply believe. We know. Faith, or belief, can lead to rare moments of knowing. I mean an unquestioned awareness of the ultimate reality, that God reigns in glory and that His power and His love are beyond any description. Because we cannot explain such an experience, He sometimes renders physical proof right before our eyes in the form of miracles. Then there is nothing to explain. When we witness a miracle, we can tell others what happened. We don't have to explain, because the event is not debatable. Something happened undeniably, and the cause could only be God Himself. A few people came to my little chapel yesterday for Sunday mass, and I told them about a few times the Lord made His presence known to me. They all had tears in their eyes as I recounted these miracles, but when I told the true story of a girl in a wheelchair the tears ran down their cheeks. She was only 17 years old, paralyzed from the chest down by a terminal illness. Her mother, who wheeled her into my office, carried a heavy, thick folder holding all the medical reports proving that the child would be dead within months. Their pastor had referred them to me for grief counseling. Hardly able to speak, interrupted by sobbing, the mother said her daughter had been in diapers for three months. Not only could she not move, she could not feel. I do not often claim that God has spoken to me, but this time He did. It was almost as though he was screaming in my ear that this condition was not His will. So instead of starting the grief counseling, I started to pray. Mother and I both laid hands on her head and prayed and prayed. As we continued to ask the Lord for His will to come forth, the girl started wiggling her little feet. Then she started pulling herself around the office by dragging at the carpet with her toes so that the wheelchair would move forward. Her Mom began to cry as I got choked up and as the child started giggling. Next, she was out racing back and forth in the long hallway. Then, in a loud voice, she cried, "Mommy, I have to go to the bathroom!" Now filled with confidence that the Holy Spirit was with us, I told them that she would be walking within the next ten days. They left my office knowing that my words were true, that the Spirit was speaking through me. The next day I went into my office as usual, and as I was rustling around, the phone rang. The voice on the other end said, "Last night I went roller skating with my friends." That same day she went back to her pastor. When he saw her walk into the room and stand before him with a great big smile on her face, he fell apart. He went into such an emotional upheaval that he needed to go home. The story was on the front page of the girl's local newspaper, but no-where was it mentioned who had prayed over her. Every single person who saw the account in print had to conclude that God had acted. No person had brought about this miracle. For at least a moment, the readers must have joined the mother and daughter in an experience of knowing.
Article Source: http://www.christianarticledirectory.org
Fr. Heyward B. Ewart, III, Ph.D. is president of St. James the Elder Theological Seminary, a low-cost distance-learning institution of world-wide respect. He is also author of the book, "AM I BAD? Recovering from Abuse", published by Loving Healing Press. His full bio can be found at stjamestheelderseminary.org
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