Today’s Miracle Monday is a testimony of healing by Sister Michelle Watson.
Picture in your mind an old black-and-white movie. There’s a beautiful actress on screen, impeccably dressed in silk, makeup perfect, hair just so. She learns some astonishing news of one kind or another, and her heavy-lidded eyes flutter and close. She gracefully crumples to the floor like a flower in a dead faint.
A few days ago, I fainted — something I’ve done more than once in my life — but it looked nothing like the silver-screen version. I awoke in the middle of the night, so I was dressed in wrinkled pajamas, hair tangled, and I fell log-style onto my bathroom tile with a thunderous “Timber!” smacking the left side of my skull hard on the floor.
For two days afterward, I felt OK — just had a sore head from the impact. But three days out, I felt … the only way I can describe it is “weird.” I could sense pressure building in my head. My head and face tingled strangely. I felt fatigued and a little dizzy, and I longed to just lay down.
My doctor said I’d probably suffered a concussion and that I needed rest. So, I rested, but I didn’t feel much better as a result — I just craved more rest. One week after the faint, a Saturday, I stayed in bed all day long in power-off mode. All I wanted to do was sleep, and my head ached.
Throughout the course of the week, I’d been anointed three times by three different ministers, and I really felt that God would be with me. But I just seemed to feel a little worse as each day passed.
When I awoke the morning after my bedridden Saturday, I felt well rested enough to attend church. My mother was visiting, so she could help me manage my two babies during the meeting. “Let’s just try it, and see how far we get,” I thought.
Even before we left for Sunday school, I could feel myself going down again. After a few minutes in church, I went out to my car, reclined the seat, and closed my eyes to rest. When I re-entered church for the main service, I felt pretty bad. I didn’t have the will to sing or really even keep my eyes open. Others later told me they saw me squinting and hunched over. Anyone could see that I wasn’t myself.
During the singing before opening prayer, my husband came down from the pulpit and said to me, “Why don’t you go home. We’ll pray for you before you leave.” So, my mother and I packed up my kids’ things and even got out the car keys. Right after opening prayer, I got anointed, and the brother who prayed for me didn’t know that I was planning on going home. In his prayer, he asked the Lord to heal me and to give me strength to enjoy the service in comfort.
After the prayer, my mom asked if I wanted to leave, and I suggested that we stay for the rest of the anointings, as the ministry had invited others who needed prayer to come forward at that time. (I had noticeably perked up after the prayer.)
When the anointings concluded, I told my mother that I was feeling good enough to stay for the time being. I felt better and better as the service progressed, so much so that when it came time for testimony, I gave honor and glory to God for doing something very special for me that day! It was an honest-to-goodness healing.
Just 24 hours prior, I’d been curled up in bed. That Sunday evening, I felt just fine. Today is Monday, and I’m back to doing laundry and dishes and diaper duty, feeling a renewed sense of gratitude for the ability to care for my family.
I know the Lord speeded my recovery and gave me one more testimony of His inexhaustible goodness and mercy, and I’m so grateful to have the opportunity to share it with you today.
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This article has undergone ministry review and approval.