An article published on Seedbed.com: Holy Spirit Stories
"Very truly I tell you, whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father. And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it." (John 14:12–14)
On returning from a ministry trip with my husband to Mumbai, India, in January 2016, I noticed a visible lump on the right side of my abdomen. Having already scheduled my annual physical for a few weeks later, I decided the bulge was probably a hernia and I’d just mention it to my doctor when I saw him. But after examining me, a look of unmistakable concern on his face said it all. I would need a CT scan, stat.
Since I had been diagnosed with endometrial cancer during pregnancy twenty-six years earlier, causing me to lose twins and morph overnight from a young expectant mother to a post-menopausal cancer patient, I felt engulfed by waves of fear as I left the medical office. Sitting alone in my car on that dreary February morning, I was suddenly aware of not being alone. I sensed the presence of the Comforter reassuring me that this was only a test, a test I would pass with flying colors because he would be with me. But the Holy Spirit also impressed on me that he would take me through this journey, not around it. I remember him asking me if we were going to have to repeat the cycle of fear from my previous experience, or if I would choose to trust him this time by faith. I chose right then and there to go the way of faith.
As my airline pilot husband Philippe was flying a trip to Japan and Singapore, I knew I’d be by myself that night, so I hunkered down under the covers with our little Italian greyhound, Ali, for some canine comfort. Having tuned my bedside radio to a Christian station, I turned the volume down low and fell into a deep sleep. With no provocation, I awoke with a start at exactly 3:33 a.m., my ears perked higher than my dog’s to a radio voice proclaiming Isaiah 53:5, “But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his stripes, we are healed.”
With the truth of God’s Word permeating every fiber of my being, I leapt out of bed as if I’d been catapulted from a cannon, shouting “I’ve been healed! Jesus has healed me!” as I laughed and cried at the same time. I knew with everything in me that I had a promise from God which he would fulfill. I didn’t know how or when—I just knew he would.
The medical news, however, went from bad to worse. My abdominal growth was determined to be an aggressive recurrence of the cancer I’d had removed over a quarter of a century earlier. A stellar team of doctors from MD Anderson told me I’d need extensive surgery to remove not only the cancerous tumor but half of my stomach muscles and part of my bowel, followed by chemo and radiation. Still, I knew I had a promise and had chosen to believe what God had said in his Word: “by his stripes, we are healed.”
A surgical biopsy on Maundy Thursday confirmed the tumor was extremely vascular—not an encouraging sign. The next evening, Good Friday, a guest pastor spoke at our church, after which he walked around the sanctuary, praying over people and offering words of prophecy. Never having met me, he correctly identified me as an intercessor. Then a stricken look came over his face and he was very quiet for a moment.
He said, “There’s something in you that doesn’t belong there, something that needs to come out!” Pointing directly at the place in my abdomen where that tumor had set up camp, he said, “The ax is already at the root. We cut off its blood supply and command it to go in Jesus’s name!” I once again felt the Holy Spirit’s power surge through me in response to God’s word.
With surgery at MD Anderson scheduled shortly thereafter, a group of praying friends joined Philippe, our son, Paul, and me at the hospital to pray with the doctors prior to my surgery. The next thing I knew, I was completely alert in the recovery room, looking up at the beaming face of the lead surgeon. Seeing a clock on the wall, I calculated that the surgery which they’d predicted would last over six hours was completed in much less than two.
The surgeon told my husband, “I’ve never seen anything like this. The blood supply to that tumor was completely cut off. It was fully encapsulated and came out like a scoop of ice cream.” After a very brief hospital stay, I was released with no further treatment necessary. By the stripes of Jesus, I had been healed.