Our stomachs growled and our eyelids fell heavy as we grabbed our stuff and headed for the van we arrived in just a few hours earlier.
The evening was spent praying throughout the village, playing with the kids and ended with a short overview of the gospel to any listening ear.
This was the third village of the day and we were ready for a break. It was hard going straight from the comforts of America to the bush of India within days.
I figured this night would be like just the rest–dinner, nightly chat with the team, and off to bed.
Little did I know that between us and the van, my life would be changed for good.
As we approached the van, the pastor grabbed us and said there was one last person that needed prayer.
We followed him down the eery road and ducked into a house that was so small that only a few of us fit inside.
Upon walking in, my chest tightened as I saw a man curled up on a straw mat, looking sick and fragile.
Come to find out the seemingly lifeless man was barely in his thirties.
A few years before… he had a stroke, paralyzing him waste down.
In the Indian culture the man is the sole provider of the family. Because of this, his family and children were suffering greatly to make ends meet.
They asked us to gather around and pray for healing.
I prayed in a manner that was logical for the human mind to comprehend. I clung to the false idea that healings were only in Bible times and that’s why we have doctors.
At this point, I didn’t understand the power of prayer.
One of my teammates and I shuffled to the corner and started praying silently to ourselves.
I looked around at the desperate faces peeking in the door and I was convicted of my unbelief.
All I could mumble was “Jesus… forgive my unbelief….”
Over and over again.
The whole room started pleading this same prayer and the room changed into a sacred place within moments.
We were out of words when someone finally broke the silence…
“He should get up and walk…”
My eyes immediately darted to his boney legs and every ounce of doubt filled my being.
There’s no way! I thought.
The man sat up with the help of his tired wife. I sat squinting my eyes.. nervous about might happen.
He lowered his lifeless legs to the floor and we held his arms as he stood.
He took one step… two steps… before I knew it, he was walking around the room.
He was freakin healed in Jesus name!
I hardly believe myself as I type this…. but it happened…and I haven’t been the same since.
In that moment, the man and his family gave their lives to Christ.
We left that village with a silence that was indescribable. I believe we were all worshiping at the Lord’s feet like we had never done before. A humble, sincere, intimate worship that was new to all of us.
Over the next few days, we saw the unfathomable.
We prayed for a boy that was deaf… his hearing was completely restored.
We prayed for a woman that was hunch back… By the end she dropped her cane and walked off with a straight back and a new found Savior.
We prayed for a man that was blind in one eye… Lord gave him his sight back not only physically but spiritually too.
There were many more things that happened that month that I can hardly comprehend.
All I know is that God is so powerful and he’s waiting for us to come to him with crazy requests.
Although I doubted, he heard me.
Although I had a sinful heart, he listened.
Although I had a sick past, He longed to use me to show His face.
Although I couldn’t comprehend it, He healed so many for His glory.
That week in the village sparked an authentic surrender in my own life.
Witnessing these healings, he healed my heart in many ways too.
He is a faithful God.
He’s eager and willing to do huge things, if only we’d ask.