Her Name Means Wild

I was sitting at Studio Movie Grill, eating my chocolate ice cream. My eyes glued to the screen, I was watching Wonder Woman with some friends. Suddenly I saw my phone light up. It was Matt. I didn’t care if it bothered anyone, I read the words very carefully in that text. I needed to go. I rushed over to his place. He greeted me at the door, him and his dog Brewsky.
Matt’s not a complainer, at least not to me anyway. He started telling me all the symptoms he felt for the past 6 months. It was true, and on quite a few occasions I found him coughing and asked if he had a cold or possibly allergies. This Monday was different from all the Mondays that passed; he woke up with chest pain and felt like he couldn’t get air in his lungs. He was ready to accept any diagnosis. All these years of smoking so many things catching up to him in that very moment. I pulled out my stethoscope and listened intently. Nothing. I was hearing nothing. I don’t hear much air moving in your lungs, I explained. There was a sadness in his eyes, a sadness that I cannot explain, a deep sorrow almost. We talked about life and our choices. Consequences. Medical stuff. It was late, and I left for the night.
I was lying in bed, when I got a text from Matt. Jesus healed me, tonight I’m completely quitting smoking, it read, come over tomorrow.
I waited so eagerly in anticipation of what he would say that was so important. What epiphany had he had?
All this time, he was thinking it was cancer. He was ready to die. I thought I was there to go with him to the hospital. He said after I had left the previous night, he felt his breath slip away from him. He began to pray and ask God if this was it and said he wanted to go. Suddenly he was overwhelmed with the presence of God. He heard a voice say, “you can die or you can live and tell the everyone what I will do. Take 7 deep breaths.” He did just that, he choice life and took the 7 deep breaths as he was commanded.
As he told me all these things, I wrapped my arms around him and he began to weep. We pray for healing, we ask for miracles, but why do we doubt that it could happen to us or our loved ones? I was afraid to listen to his lungs. But as I moved my stethoscope throughout his chest, I couldn’t believe what I heard. I had to hear it again. I heard air. I heard breath. And most importantly, after months he finally felt the depth of every breath he took.
He believed Jesus healed him that night.  I didn’t see it, but that was my purpose that day, to bear witness to the miracles around me.
Come with me, he said. So we got on his motorcycle and rode off to tell them about this wonderful thing that Jesus has done.