By Kathryn Kuhlman
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Extra resources for 10,000 miles for a miracle
My heart sank. Oh no, it wasn’t real. It was all emotion. He tried and got as far as the platform, but now he's fallen to the floor. How awful! But no one else seemed alarmed. Miss Kuhlman was standing on stage, her hands raised, praising the Lord. The ushers, the members of the choir—all were standing around looking at the boy and thanking God. One of the men helped the boy to his feet. He wasn't staggering. His legs were firm and strong. " I asked the man beside me, who had been to the meetings many times before.
Not so strange," the man whispered as the young boy left the stage with his mother. "It happens all the time when Miss Kuhlman prays for people. She says she doesn't understand it, and neither does anyone else. " It was too much to comprehend. There was another healing in the wheelchair section. A lady, whom I had noticed outside the building, had come forward. While in the wheelchair she had to breathe from an oxygen tank, which was attached to the chair. Now she was coming across the stage, pushing the wheelchair in front of her—the oxygen tank hanging uselessly to the frame.
Lord, I thank you for these fifteen years ... " My mind wandered as he finished his prayer. Was fifteen years with Jack all I would have? Rob could grow up and take care of himself, but who would care for Bruce if I were gone? I tried to enjoy the dinner, but fingers of fear had snatched my appetite. The boys were up from the table, leaving Jack and me alone for a few moments. He was in a hurry to attend a Sunday School teachers' meeting at Flemington Presbyterian Church that night, but I needed to talk.