When I was a boy in Rockford, Illinois, we had a black and white TV. My father put an antenna on the roof of our house. It picked up three stations. Sometimes, when we wanted to watch a show and it was not coming in, dad would get the ladder, climb on the roof, and turn the antenna to get better reception. From inside the house we would yell things like, "No, that's worse!" Or, "There - that's good!"
One show mom and dad liked watching was "Oral Roberts and You." Roberts was a Pentecostal preacher who claimed to have a gift of healing. Sometimes I watched with them. I can still hear the voice of Roberts as he commanded people to "Be healed!" It seemed like power shot through Roberts's fingers, and people said they felt it. They cried as they were healed.
And then it happened.
My grandmother was healed of cancer.
Grandma lived with us six months out of every year when we were growing up. She was four-foot-ten. So was her hair, which she never had
When Grandma had spent what we assumed would be her last six months in our home, she went to live with relatives in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. One day our relative called my mother. She said that, while bathing Grandma, she noticed the tumors were not there. Seriously. My mother could not believe this, yet wanted to believe it. Mom traveled 400 miles to visually inspect Grandma and confirm it. The tumors were gone!
Grandma lived twelve more years. She bought three more dresses to be buried in. She died at age ninety-seven. What happened? How can we explain this? I, my mother, and grandma concluded two things:
- God healed Grandma.