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Monday, January 28, 2013

I Believe In Miracles. A story of a little girl healed by Jesus, and she saw Him!

I Believe in Miracles

This is a testimony of a miracle that Kathryn told...
If you asked Kathryn what was the most remarkable healing she recalls, this is what she would have told you.

Revelation 12:11And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony...

The four-year-old child had just arrived home from the Miracle Service.

Upon entering the house she rushed up excitedly to the picture of the last supper.

"That's Him, Grandma," she exclaimed, pointing to the standing figure in the painting.

"That's Jesus! I saw Him over at Miss Kuhlman's today."

The small girl had been taken to the service that afternoon by her grandmother-one of the rare occasions that she had been taken out in public for many weeks, so appalling was her appearance.

Some eight months before, little Amelia had awakened one morning with what appeared to be patches of wet rash on her armes and legs.

Before the week was out, her entire body was covered with running sores.

The first doctor to whom she was taken diagnosed the trouble as eczema.

 He prescribed treatment, but her condition continued to worsen.

 As the days went on, the sores began to bleed badly, and her whole body had to be encased in cloths.

No water could touch her, and she had to be cleansed as gently as possible, with oil.

Her arms were wrapped in bandages, and unable to bend them, they hung straight at the child's side.

 As her grandmother says: "Her whole skin was cracked open. Blood and pus constantly oozed out. She was in continual pain, and it was torture for her to have the dressings changed. She screamed if anyone came near her."

It grew impossible to comb her hair, so covered with sores was her scalp.

 She had no eyebrows whatsoever and her eyelids had been eaten away with sores.

Her ears were actually rotting away, and one ear seemed literally to be falling off, so devoured was it by disease.

In the early stages of her disease she had been able to play with other children, but now her appearance revolted them and not only did they shun her, they were not allowed by their parents to visit her.

Before her face and head became so badly ravaged, her mother had tried to take her on a streetcar, but even then no one would sit beside her, and were reluctant to use even the seats adjacent to her.

Young as she was, Amelia was pathetically conscious of the horror she engendered in others.

She did not know why people stared, then turned away with an expression in their eyes she did not understand.

It made her intensely unhappy.

 She would often cry and say to her mother, "Why doesn't anyone like me?," until the time came that she was virtually never taken out of the house.

As long as she was able, she played around her own home.

When her mother let her help with the household chores to keep her occupied, she was pleased and proud.

But even this had to be stopped as it became increasingly painful for the child to move and impossible for her to bend her arms.

Doctor after doctor was consulted. They disagreed on diagnosis, but were in unanimous agreement on one point: whatever the malady was, it was the worst skin ailment they had ever encountered in their practice of medicine.

Finally one of the physicians on the case suggested to the family that Amelia be taken to the cancer clinic.

 Her grandmother had said to him that day, "Prayer helps, too," and the doctor had nodded.

It was at this point, while awaiting an appointment at the clinic, that Grandma gave voice to a desire she had long felt: she asked permission of the child's mother to take Amelia to one of Miss Kuhlman's services.

 A devout Roman Catholic, as was the entire family, the grandmother had become interested in the Kuhlman ministry through the radio broadcasts.

She had herself attended several services at which she felt she had been greatly helped.

Amelia's mother not only granted permission to take the child, but also agreed to pray at home during the hours of the service on the following day.

The little girl had been brought up in a religious household, and she was a child of simple and complete faith in Our Lord and His ability to perform miracles.

 She went to the service that afternoon as the faithful go to Lourdes-confident and expectant that she would be healed so that she would not hurt any more and could play once more with her little friends: so that she could go places with her mother and ride the streetcars and people would smile and want to sit beside her and not turn away with funny expressions on their faces.

But above all, as she confided to her grandmother, "I want to see Jesus.""

When I asked my son to drive us to the service," the grandmother told me later, "he demurred, 'You can't possibly take her into a crowd of people, looking as she does,' he said.

But I replied, ' Certainly I can-that is what this place is for. THEY won't mind.'"

But Amelia's uncle was not so sure.

 He waited outside for them just in case.

Once inside the auditorium, even Grandma sought to cover the child's head as best she could with her coat so that those who saw her wouldn't be frightened-for as she recalls, "Her skin was now so badly cracked that you could lay a pin in each crevice. The scanty hair that remained on her head was stuck tight to her scalp, and her ears just hung, as though they were both ready to drop off."

Amelia and her grandmother took their seats that afternoon in the rear of the auditorium-both totally unknown to me.

 During the singing toward the end of the service, Amelia poked her grandmother: "Look, Grandma," she exclaimed in loud tones, "I see Jesus up there!"

"Where?" her grandmother whispered.

Heads turned in the auditorium as the child said, "Up there! At the side of Miss Kuhlman! Look at Him-Jesus up there! And see-He has His hands out."

 Her grandmother looked down at Amelia, and then she looked again, and her heart began to pound.

The sores on the little girl's face were entirely dried up.

There was no evidence of blood or pus anywhere to be seen.

Her heart overflowed with joy and thanksgiving.

When they left the auditorium, Amelia's uncle was waiting for them.

 He took one look at the little girl and nearly fainted.

"When we got home," reports the grandmother, "she couldn't wait to tell everyone what had happened. 

The thing she told was, how she had seen Jesus.

The thing her family saw was, how her sores were all dried up.

 Her father took one look and cried 'A MIRACLE!' "

"I said nothing to anyone-I just wanted to make sure that everything was all right before I said anything about it."

The following week Amelia was again taken to the auditorium.

 In the middle of the service, the scabs covering her face and head and body began to drop off.

 "They came off her like snow falling," her grandmother said-"and I was embarrassed-for they fell all over some lady's clothes. But most of all I was thankful, and the whole time I was praising the Lord."

Thus was Amelia completely and permanently healed.

She was grateful to Jesus from the bottom of her little heart, but she was not at all surprised, for she had known all along that He could and would perform the miracle.

The little girl's skin was now flawless.

 There was no sign of a sore; no indication of a scab; no marks of any scarring.

Within a short time her washed and combed hair made a golden halo around her radiant little face.

 Her eyebrows became full and well marked; her eyelids and ears were fully restored.

One thousand people saw the condition of this child and witnessed her healing which the doctors call a miracle.

Amelia's case has moved me as much as anything that has ever happened in this ministry, and not solely because of the physical healing, of which I have seen so many equally remarkable, but because of her unquestioning faith; her unswerving certainty of the reality of the vision she had had of Jesus; and the tenacity with which she has clung, over the seven years since her healing, to her original story.

 In the beginning, friends and neighbors, although they could not deny the healing, either accused the child of making up the story or accused the grandmother of putting the idea in the child's head.

Her mother and father were at first convinced that the whole thing had been a product of a child's over-active imagination.

They talked to her at length and questioned her closely, but nothing they could say could shake her insistence that she had indeed seen the Lord.

She still comes often to the services and from time to time, I, too, have closely questioned her.

"Did you really see Jesus?" I asked again only recently to the radiant, lovely-looking eleven-year-old girl she has become.

"And where was Jesus?" "He was standing right over there by you!" "What did He look like?"

I queried once again.

"Like the picture of the sacred heart, and His arms were outstretched," she said.

"Are you positive you saw Him?" Her face aglow, she answered, "Oh, yes, it is the realest thing in my whole life!"

"How long did He stand there?"

"At least five or ten minutes," came her reply, "long after the singing had stopped and you had finished your prayer."

 She smiled then, as she said, "Oh, Miss Kuhlman, I'll never forget it as long as I live!"

The experience of this little girl was clearly not imagination or an hallucination or a delusion, but a true vision.

To a tiny, faith-filled child of four, who wanted more than anything in the world to see her Savior, Jesus had revealed Himself.

To those who persist in believing, that it is my faith which is in some way responsible for the miracles occurring under this ministry, and that my prayers carry more weight than the prayers of others, I offer Amelia's case as only one among many, in refutation of this totally mistaken notion.

I point out that at the time of this child's healing, I did not even know that the child was at the service, and therefore did not offer a special prayer for her.

I did not see her until after she had received her healing-when I heard a voice outburst, "Look Grandma, I see Jesus up there!" 

 It was only then that I ran my eyes quickly over the auditorium to determine where that small but penetrating voice was coming from, and finally saw, in the arms of some woman, a little girl gesticulating in my direction.

It was through the prayers of this child, not mine, that the power of God was released.

And it was in response to the simple faith of a little child, not mine, that Jesus lay His hand upon her small body.

I pray with everything within me, that no one shall ever see Kathryn Kuhlman in this ministry, but only the Holy Spirit.Dear God, give to us the simple faith that little children know-the faith to believe in the Living Person and Power of Jesus: the faith to look for Miracles upon this earth below.

For if we wear this simple faith wrapped like a cloak around us, we will be blessed as children are, and it is then that we will not only know ABOUT LIFE-we will know HOW TO LIVE LIFE!

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