WHO HEALED YOU?

Once or twice a month i get to spend the best part of my Saturday night in a jail., and last night was super fun.

It started when Kenneth, a handsomely dark-skinned man with a broad smile and easygoing manner, wheeled himself through the door.  He’d been shot in the foot, he said; it was pretty messed up and he needed surgery.

He had one of those casts that come in two pieces and was strapped around his leg.  But after we prayed he no longer needed any medical aids, so he threw his cast into the wheelchair and stood up to check out his new foot.

”Feels good!” he grinned.

”Who healed you?” i asked.

”Jesus!” He smirked, that engaging smile suddenly filling his face.

Several of the others were amazed.

”Now I believe!” one of them said.  So i prayed with him and another guy, who both said they wanted to receive Christ.

“i almost cried,” the other guy admitted sheepishly, after we finished.

”That’s OK,” i assured him.  “Now that i believe, i often get tears, and sometimes i don’t even know why.”

But this time i did.  This time by the time we said goodbye, all nine of them had become my brothers.
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