I get God-bumps every time my friend Rachael tells me about the miracle in her son Javin’s life.
Thirteen years ago, Javin was born deaf.
Rachael, a single mom, first noticed that something was wrong with her baby when he was an infant. Very wrong.
Medical and hearing tests by various specialists at two months and four months confirmed that Javin had no hearing in either ear. Zero. The results were well documented: profound hearing loss.
After many hot tears, Rachael finally accepted her son’s handicap, took a shaky breath and began learning to use sign language. The wee fella picked it up quickly and by the time he was nine-months-old, was fluent in over 100 signs. He was a happy little guy and was functioning well. Rachael began looking at special schools and programs for the deaf.
Then something incredible happened.
The day before Javin was scheduled with an audiologist to see if he was a candidate for a cochlear implant, Rachael felt compelled to ask her pastor to pray for Javin.
This was a mainline denomination, mind you, and a regular, run-of-the-mill Sunday morning church service. No special “healer” was present, nor did anyone shout, chant, lay hands on Javin or do anything out of the ordinary. Just before dismissing the congregation, the pastor simply called Rachael up front with her baby and asked everyone to remember them and tomorrow’s appointment in prayer. Heads nodded all around.
Believers agreed to join in prayer; many expecting nothing, some were hopeful but unconvinced, and a few diehards were confident that prayer is the nerve that moves the hand of God.
“Lord, please help Javin.” Short. Simple, To the point. Just like you and I have prayed for people a hundred times in our own churches and Bible studies, hoping against hope that Papa God will respond.
So it shouldn’t really have been to anyone’s astonishment that He did.
The next day, after repeating tests for hours, the stunned audiologist pronounced, “His hearing is perfect.”
Rachael wept tears of joy. And thirteen years later, her boy still hears the cry of a hawk, the crack of a baseball bat, and the sweet sound of his mother humming in the kitchen. I call that a major grace note.
So BBFF (Blessed Blog Friend Forever), what gives you God-bumps?
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