Miracles

by Terri Blackstock

  “I’ll try,” he said. “But I feel like we need to hurry.”

  “Where are we going, anyway?” Bree looked around them.

  “I’m not sure, but my feet know.”

  Bree laughed. “Do you know how stupid that sounds?”

  “Of course I do. It’s downright ridiculous, but it happens to be true.”

  The hospital came into view, and Carl’s feet picked up their pace. “Okay, now I’ve got it. We’re going to the hospital.”

  Bree gasped. “Oh, no! I don’t want to go back there.”

  “Here am I. Send me, Lord,” Andy muttered. “We have to make ourselves available, Bree. That’s what we do, we Christians. We’re obedient; we go where we’re told.”

  “Theoretically.” Bree wished she’d worn more comfortable shoes. Her feet were beginning to hurt.

  When they got into the hospital, she looked around and saw that every available space was still occupied by a bed. People lay in various states of consciousness, with head injuries, broken arms, mangled legs. Everyone here was in danger. Everyone needed help. How would they ever isolate which person they were supposed to talk to?

  But Carl seemed to know where he was going.

  He led them through the gurneys to an exit door, then trotted up one flight of stairs, Andy and Bree right on his heels. A doctor walked toward them in the corridor, staring down at a chart.

  Carl walked straight up to him, blocking his way.

  The doctor looked down at him. “Excuse me.” He stepped to his left, but Carl stepped to the right, continuing to block him. Then Bree met the man’s eyes.

  Flash.

  She saw him lying in bed, the alarm clock blaring. His hand trembled as he turned it off, then got out of bed and rubbed his face. She watched as he went to the liquor bottle on his dresser, poured some into a glass, and threw it back.

  Flash.

  She quickly turned to Andy who stood behind her and whispered one word. “Alcoholic.”

  Andy stepped up to the doctor, and Carl moved aside. Bree saw that the man’s hands trembled, just as they had in her vision.

  “You need a drink, don’t you?”

  Bree blinked at Andy’s blunt question, and the doctor gave him a startled look. “What did you say?”

  “I said you need a drink, don’t you? Bad. But maybe not that bad since you’ve probably already had a couple of swigs today.”

  The doctor took a step back. “Look, I don’t know who you are, but if you don’t get out of my way right now, I’m calling security.”

  “The Lord sent us here to talk to you, Doctor,” Andy said, “and I intend to be obedient. You’ve sold yourself into slavery to alcohol, but I know how to set you free.”

  The hardness on the doctor’s face melted, and he stepped back against the wall. His mouth began to tremble, and slowly, he seemed to crumble apart.

  Then Andy started talking.

  Not too long into Andy’s conversation, Dr. John Fryer led them into a consultation room. A Gideon Bible sat on a table in the corner, and he grabbed it and began looking up Scripture as Andy quoted it.

  Before long, he had given his life to Christ.

  As Andy and the others rose to let John Fryer get back to work, he touched Andy’s arm. “Do you really think God can deliver me from this alcoholism?”

  “I know he can.” Andy’s voice rang with confidence.

  “We have some church members who have beaten addictions,” Bree said. “I know if you came there we could hook you up with them and they could help you.”

  “I’ve been to AA.” John rubbed his eyes. “The twelve steps make a lot of sense, but it’s always seemed like there was something missing.” He pointed to the Bible. “I think this is it.”

  “It is it,” Andy said. “I can promise you that. There’s deliverance in the Holy Spirit. Come to church with us Sunday, and we’ll introduce you to some people who can help you.”

  John still had tears on his face as he returned to his work.

  Carl grinned and gave Andy a high-five. “That was absolutely awesome, man! I’ve never seen anything like it. Andy, you did a fabulous job.”

  “Well, you didn’t do so bad yourself.” Andy grinned. “And Bree, the way you saw into that guy’s life. I mean you nailed him with one word.”

  “Yeah, but it wouldn’t have done any good if you hadn’t been there to follow through. And without Carl, I would have been bouncing all over the place looking into people’s eyes and having these weird visions that scared me to death.”

  “We’re a team, man. The dream team,” Andy said. “I feel so empowered. That man’s life will be changed because of today, and who knows how many other people will be affected by that?”

  Carl started leading them back to the stairwell, and they both followed behind him. “Carl, are you doing it again?” Bree asked.

  “You got it,” Carl said. “Man, I’d love to stop and rest on our laurels, but it looks like there’s more work to do.”

  “Lead us on, man,” Andy said.

  He led them out of the hospital and to an old apartment complex sporting graffiti on the wall. Vagrants loitered on the sidewalk out front.

  Bree hesitated. “I’m kind of scared to come to this place. Are you sure this is where we’re supposed to be?”

  “Absolutely sure.” He started up a flight of stairs, and Bree and Andy tried to keep up.

  “Don’t be scared, Bree,” Andy said. “The Lord says, ‘When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they will not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched, nor will the flame burn you.’ That’s from Isaiah 43:2.”

  Bree considered the Scripture. “In other words, He’s with us, so I don’t need to fear.”

  “That’s right.”

  She nodded. “Okay. Then I won’t.” She tried to catch her breath. “How many flights, Carl?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll let you know when we get there.” He went up two flights, then came around to the walk in front of the doors. He stopped at the third one.

  “You’re just going to knock on the door?” Bree asked.

  “Yeah, and when they answer, you do your bit.”

  “I have no control over this,” she said. “If it happens, it happens.”

  Carl banged on the door. They heard footsteps across the floor, and then the door cracked open.

  “Yes?” A woman with a black eye and busted lip peered through the crack to them. Bree met her eyes.

  Flash.

  She saw her being beaten up by her husband, kicked and

  knocked with his fist until she was down on the floor, screaming for mercy.

  Flash.

  “Can I help you?” Fear shone in the woman’s black eyes.

  Bree stepped forward, trying to be brave. “Uh, ma’am, I know this sounds really weird, but the Lord sent us here because your husband beat you up.”

  The woman opened the door further. “How did you know that?”

  “I told you.”

  “Don’t give me that ‘Lord’ bit.” She peered out past them. “Did the police send you here?”

  “Police?” Bree shook her head. “No. Why would they?”

  “Because they arrested my husband.” She started to cry and stepped back from the door.

  Andy stepped inside. “Ma’am, can we come in? We really need to talk to you.”

  “Fine, come on in.”

  They came into her dilapidated apartment and looked around. The furniture looked like it had come from someone’s garage sale, but only after being abused for forty years. A broken lamp sat in the corner.

  The woman sat down, her movements careful, as if less visible parts of her body were broken and injured too. “Now tell me the truth. Why are you here?”

  “Ma’am, it’s true what we said about the Lord leading us. He cares about you.”

  She pulled a cigarette from a pack on the table and grabbed a lighter. “If He cares abo
ut me so much, then why doesn’t He just let me die?”

  “He must not be ready for you to die,” Andy said. “We’re here to tell you how you can live.”

  “How I can live?” She took a drag of the cigarette and blew it out slowly. “A better question is where I can live since my husband got hauled off to jail for beating the stew out of me. I don’t have the money to pay my rent that’s due on the first of the month. That gives me about five days to find another place to live.” She tapped the ashes of her cigarette into an empty beer can. “Oh, and did I mention that I don’t have a job?”

  “What’s your name, ma’am?”

  “Sarah Manning.”

  Andy made formal introductions of the three of them, then quoted the Scripture about how God provides for the birds of the air and the flowers of the field, and then he told her about the ultimate provision God had made for her.

  After a while the woman’s angry, defeated tears turned to tears of wonder. Her heart seemed to soften, and she began to hang on Andy’s every word.

  Finally, she agreed to meet them at church on Sunday.

  As they started to leave, she came to the door with them. “I think you were right. God really did send you here to me tonight. I wish you had come in time to save my husband too.”

  “It’s not too late for your husband,” Andy said. “We have people at our church who do prison ministry. Maybe we can send someone to help him.”

  The woman dabbed at her eyes. “Looks like God is into miracles these days. Who knows? Maybe He has one for him.”

  As they left the old apartment complex, Andy and Carl slapped hands again.

  “That was just as cool as the first one,” Carl said. His step was slower than it had been earlier. “But you know we have to help her. Besides her spiritual needs, she needs a place to live, a job, and money.”

  “Yeah.” Bree looked back at the woman’s door. “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”

  “Wonder what?” Andy asked.

  “Well, if God gave us these gifts, it makes you wonder if He didn’t give others gifts that would follow these up? Maybe we just haven’t found them yet.”

  “Could be,” Andy said. “We’ll just have to keep our eyes open.”

  Carl came to a corner and stopped walking. “Man, I’m exhausted. I feel like I’ve spent the whole day running a marathon. I could just fall on the sidewalk right here and go to sleep.”

  “I need to get home, anyway.” Bree looked at her watch. “I promised to put my kids to bed. I think I just need to lie down with them and cuddle up for a while. Maybe we could start again tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  They headed back to the church. A comfortable silence fell over them as they strolled back with no particular urgency. When they got there, they stood looking at each other for a moment.

  “What do you think?” Bree looked from Andy to Carl. “Tomorrow’s Saturday. Do we get back together and try it again?”

  “Sounds good to me.” Carl slumped against his rental car. “My feet are going to be taking me places whether you guys are along or not. You might as well come so we can get something done.”

  Before they separated they prayed for Dr. John Fryer and Sarah Manning, who’d just accepted Christ. They prayed that the Holy Spirit would do His work to comfort them tonight and keep them firmly planted in their newfound salvation.

  11

  THE NEXT DAY, BREE’S MOTHER OFFERED TO KEEP her kids while she went out “witnessing” with Andy and Carl. It had occurred to Bree that perhaps she should tell her mother about the extraordinary gift she’d been given, but her mother tended to be an alarmist, and Bree didn’t want her thinking that her daughter had some kind of brain injury and rush her to the emergency room. She also didn’t want her children to absorb any anxiety from their grandmother. So she chose to keep the matter to herself.

  She met Andy and Carl in the church parking lot. Carl paced back and forth, raring to go, and Andy chattered nonstop. When Bree got out of her mother’s car, Carl yelled out, “Okay, you’re here. Let’s go. Hurry!”

  “Hurry?” Bree locked her purse in the trunk of her car. “Hurry where?”

  “I don’t know! I’m just ready to go.”

  She dropped her keys into her pocket. “Okay. Feet . . . take us away.”

  Carl shot her an unappreciative look and started walking.

  “Don’t mock him,” Andy said. “‘He who mocks the poor reproaches his Maker.’ Proverbs 17:5.”

  “Hey, I’m not poor,” Carl said, breathing faster as his step picked up. “I probably make the same thing you make.”

  “Well, I’m poor,” Andy said.

  “Me too,” Bree piped in. “Dirt poor. I’m the one who has to live with her mother.”

  “‘Blessed are the poor in spirit,’” Andy said. “Matthew 5:3.”

  “We’re not talking about poor in spirit.” Bree was glad she’d worn her walking shoes today. “I’m talking poor in wallet. And now I’ve got to get a new car, and the insurance almost never gives you what your car is worth.”

  “What did we tell Sarah Manning last night?” Andy breathed hard as he kept up with Carl. “That God provides. ‘But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness; and all these things shall be added to you.’ Matthew 6:33.”

  Carl turned and took off up a hill.

  Bree trotted behind him. “I’m glad this is a small town. Can’t your feet press an accelerator instead of pavement, Carl? We could use my mother’s car.”

  “I think I have to walk. But don’t worry. We’re here.” He led them into another older, deteriorating neighborhood and turned up a sidewalk. “Someone inside this house needs us.”

  Bree thought of Sarah Manning last night, thanking them for coming. She drew in a deep breath for courage. “Okay. Go.”

  Carl knocked and stepped back, letting Bree have center stage.

  But no one answered. Bree tried again.

  Finally, they heard a voice from deep in the house. “Help! Somebody, please help!”

  Bree shot an alarmed look to Andy and quickly turned the doorknob. It was unlocked, so she pushed the door open. “Hello?”

  “In here.”

  A woman’s weak voice came from the kitchen. Carl bolted through the house and led them to an old woman lying on the floor.

  “Thank God you’ve come . . .” Her words were slurred.

  Flash.

  Bree saw the woman lying on the floor, trying to get up, but one side was paralyzed. She’d had a stroke, and no one was there to help her. Bree watched her turn to her paralyzed side and push up with her good hand until she managed to get to her feet. She took a step and fell again.

  “God! Can You see me at all? Are You there? Do You remember me?”

  Flash.

  “Call an ambulance,” Bree said. “She’s had a stroke. Ma’am, how long have you been lying here?”

  “Since yesterday.” The left side of her mouth didn’t move with her right as she spoke.

  Bree and Andy got the trembling woman up and carried her to the couch while Carl called for the ambulance.

  “God sent you.” She turned her faded eyes to Bree’s face. “I prayed and prayed for help.” She reached out a trembling hand. “I’m May Sullivan.”

  They each introduced themselves.

  “Yesterday, when she couldn’t get up, she felt like the Lord forgot her,” Bree whispered to Andy, who took the baton.

  “Ma’am, do you know the Lord?”

  “He knows me.” May chewed out the words. “Sure seems to, don’t He?”

  “Yes, ma’am, He does.” Andy’s words were soft and gentle. “But He doesn’t just want you to get medical help. He wants your spirit healed too. Ma’am, the Lord wants me to tell you what it says in Isaiah 49, verses 14 through 16: ‘But Zion said, “The LORD has forsaken me, and the Lord has forgotten me.” Can a woman forget her nursing child, and have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, but
I will not forget you. Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands.’”

  Tears began to run down the woman’s half-paralyzed face, and Bree heard a siren approaching the street. The woman reached out for Andy’s hand. “Come to the hospital with me. I need to hear more of what the Lord is saying to me. I did think He’d forgotten me. But He ain’t, has He?”

  “No, ma’am. He hasn’t forgotten. We’ll come with you and finish this conversation.”

  The paramedics were the same ones who had rushed Bree to the hospital the day before, and because she pleaded with them—and they were so amazed that she had walked out of the hospital without any of the injuries with which they’d taken her in—they broke the rules and allowed all three of them to ride with the woman to the hospital.

  Bree and her friends waited with May, and Andy told her of God’s love and the fact that He’d never had her out of His sight. When she had been admitted, they promised to come back and visit her later. She hugged them goodbye as if they were family.

  As they left the hospital, they ran into Dr. John again. “Hey, guys.” He looked better than he had yesterday, and Bree was certain he was sober, though his hands trembled slightly, and his skin had a gray cast. She supposed his body would have to adjust to its new state. “Were you looking for me?”

  “No,” Bree said. “We just brought a friend in. She had a stroke, and we found her on the floor of her kitchen.”

  “What’s her name?” Dr. John asked.

  “May Sullivan. She’s in room 413.”

  “I’ll stop by and see her. So . . . about church tomorrow. I was going to call you.”

  “You’re not backing out are you?” Andy asked. “Come on, man, you need to be there.”

  “I know.” He raised his hands in a mock vow. “I’m going. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t forget. I hate going in places like that by myself. I haven’t been to church since my best friend’s wedding. That was six years ago.”

  “We’ll meet you on the front steps,” Carl said. “You won’t be the only one. There are a few others we’ll be meeting too.”

  “Great.” He patted Carl’s shoulder. “I’ll be there.”

  Carl was already starting to walk off, and Bree knew he’d been hit again with that foot thing. So she said goodbye to Dr. John and took off following him. Andy was close behind.