Spiritual healing prayer
I’m a living example of spiritual healing prayer when rightly applied.
I’m forever grateful for the power of spiritual healing prayer. A few years ago, during a trip to Florida to see my grown children and grandchildren, I had the privilege of visiting with my old school principle from the 4th grade through the 12th grade. He asked if I ever had any repercussions from the critical accident I experienced as a 10-year-old child. The answer I gave him was “NO, none”.
In May 1955, toward the end of that school year, I had been playing at the park after school. I was walking on top of the parallel bars when I slipped and fell to the ground. I seemed to have dislocated my shoulder blade (not medically diagnosed) and my mother allowed me to stay home from school the next day.
That afternoon my father had to drive to another town about 15 miles away to pick up some powdered insecticide to kill the mosquitoes that bred in the bushes around the house exterior and he asked if I’d like to ride with him. I said “OK”. He took the old red truck.
On the way back, along a two-lane road, the front wheel came off the truck and we veered into the oncoming lane and were hit head-on by a full-size car. Of course, seat belts were not invented for vehicles then so I was not strapped in.
My head hit the windshield and the impact threw me out the open side window (no air-conditioning). Then the truck overturned and pinned me underneath. Fifty-pound bags of insecticide burst open and spilled all over my body.
People stopped to help lift the truck from on top of me and then the gas tank exploded and caught fire. I remember it vividly, never losing consciousness. Even though I couldn’t open my eyes from the insecticide that covered me from head to toe, I felt the heat of the flames.
A woman put my head in her lap and spoke softly to me. The ambulance came and I was aware of the sirens. I was rushed into the Hospital Emergency room and into X-ray while my eyes were still closed.
A nurse then came in and began sponging me, cutting away my bloodied green and white striped t-shirt. To this day, when I think about it, I can still taste and smell the insecticide that was in my mouth and nose.
I lived in a small Southern town with a small hospital. They had no pediatric room for me so I was put into the maternity ward, first bed on the right side after entering the room. Blood in my hair was starting to dry and they had a hard time combing it out, pulling knots and mats for what seemed like hours.
I was diagnosed with having multiple injuries… a crushed pelvis, a fractured scull, a broken right wrist, and flesh was ripped from my right arm and legs.
Here’s where spiritual healing prayer came into play.
I wasn’t expected to live through the night. With the love of God, I pulled through. The doctor assigned to me wanted to have me transferred to a larger farther-away hospital for additional medical care. My mother said it wouldn’t be necessary. She had refused to look at the x-rays. Instead, she immediately called for help with spiritual healing prayer.
I had lost a lot of blood and I was only given blood plasma upon my mother’s consent. No bones were set, no casts put on, and no medication was ever given. They taped a board down to my right arm so my wrist would remain still and being right-handed I couldn’t use it much during that time.
I remember every person from my fifth grade class coming to see me, bringing me hand-made get-well cards and puzzles and books. Even the head cook of the school cafeteria brought me chocolate chip cookies and home-made brownies, joking around with me as I gobbled the treats. Amazingly, I never felt pain during this entire time, neither at the scene of the accident, nor in the hospital. In retrospect, I don’t think I was ever taught that I was supposed to feel pain.
After unbelievable improvement I went home only eleven days later. Months went by before I learned the medical staff expected me to remain in the hospital for at least six months. I was transported home by ambulance but the doctor wanted assurance from my working mom that someone would be with me to care for me at home. My mother assured him there would be. She would tell people later, “God was always with her!”
I didn’t want to be confined to my small bedroom, so my parents allowed me to camp out in the living room on our green futon sofa which opened up to accommodate me. “Spiritual healing prayer” continued. I had left the slant board for my wrist at the hospital while bones and surface injuries were quickly being healed.
Here I was with my father, who had recovered from a bruised hip and skin lacerations… just he and I, there together with God. We must have made a good laughable team. When I had to go to the bathroom, I slid myself onto a hassock which they had placed on a throw rug beside my ‘bed’. We had hardwood floors, so my dad would pick up one end of the rug and drag the hassock, with me on it, down the hall to the bathroom door where I would slide myself to the toilet.
My friends came to see me after school and a visiting teacher for the county brought my school work so I wouldn’t get behind. My mother rented a wheel chair in hopes I could get around a little bit better.
There are two things that really stand out to me during this time of spiritual healing.
First Wheelchair Story: We had a jalousie room by the front door with a 90-degree angle from the living room. I wheeled myself out and stopped on the stoop, short of the five marble steps that went down onto the lawn. It was peaceful. A wasp came along and landed on my left hand. I wasn’t able to get up from the wheel chair due to confinement. I intentionally stayed very still. The wasp walked up my arm, across my shoulder, around the back of my neck, down the right arm, looked around and flew away. I thought to myself, “it doesn’t want to hurt me” and I immediately saw my arm as just a landing spot. My arm was no different than a tree branch to the wasp. It had no need to defend itself or sting me because it felt no threat.
Second Wheelchair Story: My mother wheeled me out to the clothes line where she was hanging some laundry. Three peach trees were right behind me and the peaches were ripe in the May heat. I wanted some, so without thought I pulled myself out of the wheel chair and cautiously walked to the closest tree. This was only about 10 days after I had gotten home from the hospital. Little did I know at that time I wasn’t supposed to ever walk, or if I did, one leg would be shorter than the other. My mother kept this discouraging information from me and told me much later of the doctor’s prognosis. I was due for a medical check-up two weeks from my hospital release and when I walked into the office he dropped his jaw in disbelief and called my healing a miracle.
A week later I was back in school and playing again at the park. My school teacher didn’t think she would see me for the rest of the school year. After all, it was already the month of May. I had been totally healed within 30 days from a critical auto accident.
My father made a bet with one of the nurses before we left the hospital that spiritual healing prayer really does work. She came by to see me and found I was running around. True to her word, she came back a week later and paid her debt – a milkshake for both of us! Nobody could believe it! Oh yes – because of having a crushed pelvis, I wasn’t supposed to be able to have children either, according to the doctor’s prognosis. Happily, I bore five, naturally, many years later with no complications.
My school principle remembered all this childhood activity and commented he had always been amazed with my remarkable healing. Unbeknownst to me at the time… this was the start of my personal spiritual journey.
Proof that spiritual healing prayer can touch other people’s lives.
True story of Gail Masonic Gupton
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