They let me sit there and enjoy it for a time.
Somehow I knew—without a shred of evidence—Jesus healed me with that touch. It was as real as if I’d lived in Israel 2,000 years ago and he’d done it in person. He did do it in person. I saw it. I felt it. And then a few days later…
I was chopping vegetables fresh from the refrigerator, but my hands weren’t burning. I took off my gloves. No welts. They weren’t even red. Huh…
I reached into the freezer for a bag of frozen vegetables. Nothing happened. Except my hands got cold. I couldn’t believe it. My hands were healed!
A couple of weeks after that, the temperature dropped to 37 degrees. I stepped outside before the sun came up and shivered in the cold for 10 minutes without a jacket. No reaction.
A couple of weeks after that, I was walking into an adoption celebration with my family. “Mind if I try this without my mask?” I asked Brandon.
“Alright,” he said. “Just put it on the moment you feel yourself start to react.”
That moment never came. There were scented candles. Women wearing perfume. Food particles in the air. After a time, a crowd had gathered. And I was fine.
We tried church the next day. Mask-free. “I’m doing greeeeeeaat!!!!” I squealed in Brandon’s ear, tears streaming down my cheeks.
That night, I purchased tickets for the White As Snow gala, an annual fundraiser which supports Project 41, a sex-trafficking ministry in Monroe, Louisiana. I’d wanted to attend since I heard about it two years prior. I was so excited, even though it was a dinner and my food sensitivities hadn’t improved.
“You have not because you ask not,” the Holy Spirit whispered. I knew he was talking about the food.
“Okay, God,” I answered. “Please allow me to eat the food at the gala.”
I felt the Lord approve the request as I made it. So bold as brass, I ate everything they served that night. From that point on, I’ve had no trouble with food.
Today, I eat what I want and do what I want. My fatigue is gone. My pain is gone. Headaches are rare as opposed to constant. My vision hasn’t blacked out when going from sitting to standing in over a month. I’m medication free. I take probiotics and supplements, fillers, capsules, and all. I sleep like a baby most nights. My digestive system functions normally. More normally than ever before, in fact. Other uncomfortable symptoms of a personal nature are either gone or are much improved.
Not only am I free from old sin patterns, I’m emotionally healthy. A vital part of that was finding my tribe of weirdos. I’m pretty passionate about them, Friday nights, and Personal Prayer Ministry.
My walk with God is even more personal than it was before. Every day is an adventure with him. I plan to travel to Brazil with Erica Weller for a Global Awakening mission trip with Randy Clark in September. I never thought I’d fly commercially again, much less leave the country.
I’ll be 32 on June 3rd. I haven’t decided what kind of birthday cake I want yet. It’s good to have choices.
***
For more of the story, visit melissakeaster.blogspot.com.
Somehow I knew—without a shred of evidence—Jesus healed me with that touch. It was as real as if I’d lived in Israel 2,000 years ago and he’d done it in person. He did do it in person. I saw it. I felt it. And then a few days later…
I was chopping vegetables fresh from the refrigerator, but my hands weren’t burning. I took off my gloves. No welts. They weren’t even red. Huh…
I reached into the freezer for a bag of frozen vegetables. Nothing happened. Except my hands got cold. I couldn’t believe it. My hands were healed!
A couple of weeks after that, the temperature dropped to 37 degrees. I stepped outside before the sun came up and shivered in the cold for 10 minutes without a jacket. No reaction.
A couple of weeks after that, I was walking into an adoption celebration with my family. “Mind if I try this without my mask?” I asked Brandon.
“Alright,” he said. “Just put it on the moment you feel yourself start to react.”
That moment never came. There were scented candles. Women wearing perfume. Food particles in the air. After a time, a crowd had gathered. And I was fine.
We tried church the next day. Mask-free. “I’m doing greeeeeeaat!!!!” I squealed in Brandon’s ear, tears streaming down my cheeks.
That night, I purchased tickets for the White As Snow gala, an annual fundraiser which supports Project 41, a sex-trafficking ministry in Monroe, Louisiana. I’d wanted to attend since I heard about it two years prior. I was so excited, even though it was a dinner and my food sensitivities hadn’t improved.
“You have not because you ask not,” the Holy Spirit whispered. I knew he was talking about the food.
“Okay, God,” I answered. “Please allow me to eat the food at the gala.”
I felt the Lord approve the request as I made it. So bold as brass, I ate everything they served that night. From that point on, I’ve had no trouble with food.
Today, I eat what I want and do what I want. My fatigue is gone. My pain is gone. Headaches are rare as opposed to constant. My vision hasn’t blacked out when going from sitting to standing in over a month. I’m medication free. I take probiotics and supplements, fillers, capsules, and all. I sleep like a baby most nights. My digestive system functions normally. More normally than ever before, in fact. Other uncomfortable symptoms of a personal nature are either gone or are much improved.
Not only am I free from old sin patterns, I’m emotionally healthy. A vital part of that was finding my tribe of weirdos. I’m pretty passionate about them, Friday nights, and Personal Prayer Ministry.
My walk with God is even more personal than it was before. Every day is an adventure with him. I plan to travel to Brazil with Erica Weller for a Global Awakening mission trip with Randy Clark in September. I never thought I’d fly commercially again, much less leave the country.
I’ll be 32 on June 3rd. I haven’t decided what kind of birthday cake I want yet. It’s good to have choices.
***
For more of the story, visit melissakeaster.blogspot.com.
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