Someone Was in Prayer for Me
Even before I knew He was there, someone was in prayer for me. I wish I knew who so I could thank them.
I openly professed my personal commitment to the LORD Jesus on July 25, 1994, having had a prison documented melanoma. The disease had caused me to be whisked in handcuffs to University of Michigan’s Medical Center bi-weekly for several months. The cancer was expected to soon take my life.
The day I was baptized I held on to a chair to keep my balance, having already removed my artificial leg because I couldn’t get it wet. When my turn came, I hopped up to the tank and was assisted in. Before burying me into Christ, the minister questioned me about my profession; and, being satisfied with the response, he told me something he’d not said to the others: “Expect to receive.”
While submerged something wondrous entered my spiritual ears: “I am the Lord who heals you; choose this day whom you shall serve.” My spirit cried out and I emerged cured of that disease destined to soon take my last breath. Glory to God!
Next week’s scheduled appearance before the U of M oncologist experts had them stymied. Nothing remained of the disease but an inconsequential bit of scarring.
Twenty years ago I mused over my expected expiration from the alcohol and drug abuse I’d subjected myself to for decades. Even losing the lower portion of my right leg, clogged with blood clots when my aorta exploded in rebellion, didn’t dissuade me from my journey to self-destruction and hell. Someone was praying for me; I wanted nothing to do with any god other than myself. Brain damage naturally resulted from the lack of oxygen reaching my cerebral cortex. It took the form of acute aphasia, which has become my one of my “thorns in the flesh” today. Yet I didn’t heed the call to stop the self-abuse. I even eagerly returned to the very things that were destroying me; and I continued in my refusal to hear the voice of God.
I’ve been married four times. We brought children into the world, but I never made an attempt to raise any. I just remained inebriated and stole the opportunities of a happy youth away from them—just as was mine. I followed in the footsteps that I vowed never to retrace. I gave what I knew and was never more than a child myself emotionally. Women and families would just “disappear” never to be heard from again. Today, I give them credit for the courage and intelligence that took.
Twice I had been beaten and left for dead; but not for noble causes. Once I was the driver at fault in a car wreck resulting in another’s death. How many times in our lives have we been spared, not realizing it? God has parted the Red Sea in all of our lives but it rarely seems to be recognized.
Never was there an expression of true pain or remorse over the behavior on my part. Possibly I have never found the depths of my own depravity; but I thank God that He didn’t permit me to go further. It came to me that someone I’d hurt could have been praying for me.Early on in my 6 to 15 year sentence, I was led to begin to separate myself from the seduction of the sinful conduct surrounding me. Sin in my life was beginning to grieve me. In January 1992 I began saturating myself with the Word of God but I rarely comprehended what I read. I had head knowledge but hadn’t yet asked the LORD to take me as His.
Soon after I was beginning to understand the power, presence and significance of Jesus in my life and realized I had to come to a personal, intimate relationship with Christ. I also realized the sense that someone was still praying.
I became involved in correspondence Bible studies to keep my mind focused. The more I learned, the more I became aware that I’ve only begun my faith-walk.My prison term ends in December 2003 and I’ve not the slightest notion what the future holds but I’m trusting God as my guide.
George — Originally published in May 2003
