Corrie ten Boom, Her Story
My times are in thy hand....
Psalms 31:15
19. Miracles Every Day
IT WAS MY first time in India and I was to speak at a conference of missionaries in Vellore. However, when my plane arrived in Bangkok I was told the next plane to Vellore did not leave for three days.
"But this means I will have to miss the first three days of the conference," I said. "We are sorry, but there is no way," the man at the ticket counter told me. However, the airlines did make arrangements for me to stay at a hotel until the next plane left.
Arriving at the hotel I asked the kindly Indian man who was in charge of my arrangements, "Is there no possibility that I can catch another plane to Vellore?"
"The airlines are making every effort," he assured me. "Then we must pray that God will help them," I said. "Do you profess to be a Christian?" he asked with a startled look on his face. "Yes, Ido," answered. "Iam a professor of Jesus Christ. And what about you?" He hung his head. "I have been, but I am what you call a lost sheep."
"Hallelujah!" I said. "Then you are just the one sheep for whom the Shepherd left the ninety-nine to find."
We talked a long time in the lobby of the hotel. Finally I asked the man if he would be willing to come back to Jesus. "Oh, yes," he said. "For I believe God kept you here just for this reason."
We prayed together in the hotel and then I said to him, "Now that God has used me for this miracle will you pray with me for another miracle—that I might arrive in Vellore in time for the conference?"
Dia
TRAMP FOR THE LORD DHS}
The man leaped to his feet. "While you pray I must run an errand. I'll be back shortly." With that he was out the door, leaving me sitting among my suitcases.
Half-an-hour later he was back. "Make quickly ready for the plane," he said.
"I think God has performed your miracle. We have discovered another plane going by a different route to Vellore."
"Did you arrange that?" I asked.
"T did," he smiled as he hoisted my bags to his back. "But don't thank me. I must thank you for bringing me back to the Shepherd."
We rushed madly to the airport and I found the plane was supposed to have left long before. However, they were holding it just for me. Panting, I climbed the steps to the plane.
"Ah, Professor," the stewardess said as she closed the door behind me, "we were afraid we would have to leave you."
"Professor?" I asked. "What's this?" "Oh," she smiled sweetly. "We know all about you. Our hotel agent told us that you are an important professor from Holland who has to give significant speeches in Vellore. That is why we have held the plane on the ground until you arrived."
I took my seat near a window. Outside the once-lost sheep was grinning and waving. I waved back. Surely, I thought, God not only had a special reason for keeping me in Bangkok, but He must have an equally important reason for wanting me in Vellore.
I was right. My first talk to the missionary conference in Vellore was the next morning. I spoke on the reality of God's promises in the Bible. After the service I slipped away from the crowd and strolled in a beautiful garden near the conference center. It was alive with color: green and red crotons mixed their rich colors with the dark orange of the copper plants and the rainbow hues of the flowering shrubs. How wonderful, I thought, to be in the center of God's will.
"Excuse me," a shy voice said from behind. I turned and recognized one of the English missionary ladies. Her body seemed weak. She hesitated to speak but at last said, "Do you really believe in God's promises?"
Yes. ido, Isard. "Do you believe the Lord still heals the sick?" "Of course," I answered. I motioned for her to sit with me on a stone bench near a flowering hibiscus. First I read to her from the Bible where Jesus said we would lay hands on the sick and they would be healed (see Mark 16:18-20). Then I told her of a recent experience in Indonesia.
"I was staying in the house of a dear Chinese pastor and his wife," I said. "Since we were so busy the wife had no time to cook, so a member of their church, another Chinese lady, came every day in a ricksha to fix me a good Chinese meal.
"One morning I was sitting in the house and looked out the window. I saw this dear woman stumbling up the pathway. Her head was bleeding and her dress badly torn. I rushed out to meet her and helped her into the house. Her ricksha had collided with another ricksha and she had been badly injured, hitting her head against a metal part of the primitive vehicle. Since Chinese people were not popular in Indonesia at that time, no doctor would come to see her. Instead they just brought her to the house and let her out.
"T knew her condition was serious and also knew that the doctor would not come to the Chinese pastor's house either. Therefore, I just laid my hands on her and prayed in Jesus' Name that she be healed. She was restored instantly."
The missionary lady was listening intently. "Must you know a person's type of sickness before you pray for them?" she asked.
"No, I'm not a doctor. I do not heal. It is the Lord who heals."
"T am very ill," she said quietly. "Will you lay hands on me and pray?"
"T will," I said. She slipped off the bench and knelt in that beautiful garden while I put my hands on her head and prayed for her to be healed in the Name of Jesus
Christ.
She rose slowly to her feet. "Now I will tell you my sickness," she said. "I have leprosy."
I had been in leper colonies and suddenly I was filled with a great fear. Oh, I thought, this is far too difficult for the Lord. I wish now she had told me ahead of time so I would have known not to pray for her.
Then I felt ashamed and asked forgiveness for my small faith and unbelief. After all, it was not I who said He would heal the sick—but He who had said it.
Some years passed and I lost the name and address of the lady missionary, although many times I remembered that time in the garden and continued to pray for her. Five years later I was back in India, staying with friends of the Pocket Testament League. One afternoon there was a knock at my hotel door. "Do you remember me?" a beautiful lady asked.
I looked at her and said, "I have seen you before but I do not remember who you are."
"Do you remember a time in Vellore when you laid hands on a leper patient and prayed in Jesus' Name that she be healed?"
"Oh, yes," exclaimed. "I surely remember you. But you are a different person." She smiled. "The Lord wonderfully healed me. The doctors say I am absolutely healed from leprosy."
"Thank You, Lord," I said aloud. "Your Name be glorified! You are always ready to meet our needs, even when our faith is small."