It was a cold Minnesota night, and I was feeling pretty blah. Nothing much to do but fold laundry and talk to my aunt. (That conversation changed my life.) As we talked and I shared what was going on, how life was in a wheelchair was different, and the difficulties that therefore I faced that I had never before even considered; something welled up inside her. Something about her faith in the Lord. She prayed for me and she really believed that the Lord was going to heal me.

She believed...not me. At least that's how it was at first. She prayed and I doubted God. This was yet another prayer that would end in disappointment, so why bother to believe. I'd already tried that. However, something inside of me questioned my doubt. Did I really believe that God was God no matter where I was? Did I believe that the God that was present when I went to church and was surrounded by 300 people praying was the same God that was there when I was folding laundry in my room, physically alone? It was easy to say that I did. But when the rubber met the road, I was off.

So I laid it down. I stopped waiting for my 'one-day' ('one-day' I would be healed and hundreds of people would be around me to witness the goodness of our Lord. 'one-day' I would get up out of the wheelchair and walk in freedom) and believed that day could be the day.

By the end of my aunt's prayer, I had begun to move about my room. I began to jump and dance without fear, without pain and without collapsing! Although I held my doubts at first, they were soon vanished as I realized just how miraculously I had been healed.

Within days I went running for miles upon miles. I was gone for a couple hours and returned feeling great. I ran a 8 minute mile and was still walking to tell about it. Completely and miraculously healed.