MIRACLE OF ALL MIRACLES

Mark 16:17, 18

And these signs shall follow them that believe; In my name shall they cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues; They shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover.

In our modern day and age, so much is being accomplished by technology, that pretty soon, we will be able to “perform” many of the miracles that Jesus performed while walking here on earth.  Man is cloning human beings, so that pretty soon, any ailment will be cured due to “spare parts” from the cloning factories.  Laser surgery is “healing” eyes; organ transplants cure ailments of the heart, lungs, and kidneys, until the life span is extended far beyond the scope of the age of a man left to his own devices.  I am sure even “prosthetic” wombs will eventually be created for women who have not yet been able to have babies, due to internal problems.  Therefore, man seems to be less and less in need of a miracle that can only be accomplished by divine means.

However, in places where one can turn nowhere else but to God for help, and all hope is gone, to speak of one who said, “greater miracles than these will ye do in my name”, is like a breath of air to victim of asphyxiation.  When people crowd into a little school room to hear about a man who died that they may have life after death, they listen; when the preacher says this man can do miracles now, this Jesus has instantly become the star of the show. 

When I was a young girl my dad went down to the local health clinic, for some reason or other; if I am not mistaken, it was to take a servant ours for some reason.  However, while in the waiting room, my dad witnessed a man wheeled in, in a wheelchair.  As my Dad looked upon this man, his heart swelled with compassion, as he could see the man was in agony of body and spirit, due to an ailment that was all too obvious to the human eye.  He was a naturally thin man, but his legs were swollen to at least quadruple their normal size, so that his pants had had to be cut up as high as mid thigh.  His skin was already beginning to crack, and pus was oozing out of the cracks.  Of course, Daddy, the only white face in the waiting room, was already a spectacle of attention, but he did not care what was thought of him, as he moved over to where the middle-aged man was sitting. 

He stood beside the man and started talking in a soothing tone, to reassure the man and those around him that the white man meant no harm.  (This was early on, when the blacks were very oppressed and skeptical when approached by one of their oppressors.)  Dad assured him that he was a “maruti”—teacher, pastor—from America, who loved him and was here today just for him.  Of course, the man was astounded and wanted to know why, and enquired to such in his stilted English. 

Dad, now overwhelmed with the assurance and peace of God, just knelt before this man, who had said, respectfully, that he had not been able to work for several months and that his family was going hungry, because of some debilitating inner problem, causing this condition.  On his haunches, Dad rested his hands on top of those pus infested, swollen knees and reminded God, that he had said anything we ask in His name, He would do, that by His stripes we are healed, and ended the prayer by saying, “In the name of Jesus, be healed”.  It was as simple as that, and, needless to say, there was a hush in that crowded room by this time.  Eyes started to assume the form of white saucers as they witnessed the miracle working power in the name of Jesus.  The swelling started to avert before their eyes, the cracks started closing up, and within seconds, his legs were back to their normal size and his skin was the texture of that of a newborn baby. 

Needless to say, this caused quite a commotion, as the gentleman jumped from the chair and hugged my Dad’s neck in front of God and everybody, which would normally have elicited a rebuke.  But the young, redheaded preacher man hugged him back for all it was worth, and to this day, I do not think the man kept his doctor’s appointment.  He went home, rejoicing, and brought a crowd with him to the services the next time the door was open, and the greatest miracle of all miracles occurred, that of the salvation of souls.

That happened a long time ago, and many things have happened since, but next time, I will relate miracles that have just happened recently in the lives of friends of ours who have been missionaries in South Africa for the past few years.