It was a conference for Sunday School teachers.
The crowd consisted of down-to-earth housewives, mothers, even some older, benevolent grandmotherly types. Lots of nice, well-meaning women attending, simply trying to fill a need at their church. Most were mothers who wanted to be involved in teaching the faith to their kids. My friend and I were the only Catholics in the group and that added to a feeling of alienation. So, I came albeit grudgingly. I really did not expect to learn anything more than a few interesting tips on how to hold children’s interest.
I was pretty fed up with learning techniques and strategies. I wanted, no I needed, to receive more from God in my deepest self, in my spirit because I was tired and depleted. I did not need more facts. What I craved cannot be taught. It flows at the most unexpected moments from God himself. It did not look like it could ever happen in this setting.
Then a nurse, with a freshly scrubbed face and no make-up, in running shoes and jeans, announced that she had a gift of praying for people with crooked spines or scoliosis. My friend elbowed me, and I shyly raised my hand only a little higher than my head. The nurse spotted me right away,
“Come right up here to the front and I will pray over you for a physical healing.”
I sighed and stood up front, trying to open my heart to God but feeling self-conscious and doubtful. I felt nothing. No heat. No tingling, stretching or lengthening. Zip. Zilch.
The nurse had me touch my toes again. Excitedly, she announced to the crowd,
“Her spine is straight.” She smiled at the audience.
Then she sat me down on a chair, “Look, your legs are now the same length. How do you feel?”
I was in shock as I stared at the leg that had been 1 to 2 inches shorter a moment ago. I reached back to feel my back. I felt taller and I knew I stood straight but my mind started to race, “How could this be? I did not feel anything. It was impossible. Surely if muscles and bones, never mind the nerves, moved and shifted, stretched and realigned, surely I would have felt something, wouldn’t I?”
I ran to the washroom and looked in the huge mirror. Sure enough, I stood straight and tall but my mind could not process this.
When a chiropractor was struck dumb and my agnostic mother wept with joy, weeks later, then I allowed myself to relax and simply accept the bizarre, the surreal. I was healed.
connecting with theology is a verb
joy of nine9 
That is sooo amazing! Thanks for sharing this!
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Oh my Melanie! That is incredible! God is always reaching out to us, isn’t He? Even when we have doubts and insecurities, He is always there. Thank you for sharing your story.
– Mar
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Thank you for sharing this wonderful gift and blessing us with renewed hope for this life and beyond! God is good!
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I left the Catholic Church in 1969 and remained ‘church-less’, although I ‘knew-that-I-knew’ that God existed! I just couldn’t ‘trust’ the Catholic Church anymore.
About 25 years ago, as I was ‘journeying’ back toward God through participation in a very small Protestant denomination, I attended a meeting where someone from Toronto had been asked to speak to our small group about the ‘phenomena’ of “The Toronto Blessing”; where supposedly, people from all over were being “slain in The Spirit”.
After telling us about what he had seen/experienced, the young man asked if anyone was willing to come up “for a healing by The Holy Spirit”.
My immediate thought was that this was all just, ‘hocus-pocus’ nonsense! As I was thinking this, I suddenly found myself standing up, and walking forward (with the aid of my walker)! I literally felt lie I was being gently ‘pushed’!
In fact, I was the second person in line! The first person, received a ‘blessing’ and walked away. As I stood in front of the young man, he held his hand about 4 inches above my head (he NEVER touched me); and simply said: “Lord, heal her nervous system.” I held on tightly to my walker; yet, I literally fell to the floor like a stone (right in front of the speaker) and began to sob — out loud! I could NOT get myself up; and try as I might, I could NOT stop crying!
The pastor, and another man literally had to drag my limp body out of the aisle, towards the back of the room — where I was wracked by loud sobs, for about 20 minutes! The pastor stayed near me, as I went through this. When I was finally able to stop crying, I asked the pastor: “What the heck, just happened?” His reply was: “God – through His Holy Spirit – was probably healing mental/emotional wounds that were so deep, that you could never have reached them all in your lifetime.” I believe tht this pastor may have been right about that!
A few years later, as I journeyed into a closer relationship with Jesus, I discovered Fr. Bob Bedard — through his TV show, ‘Food for Life’ — and began a slow, cautious, journey back to the Catholic Church.
I thought that Fr. Bob was in Toronto (because that’s where it was produced) but, through a ‘chance’ meeting with a neighbor, I discovered that Fr. Bob was ‘Pastor Emeritus’ @ St. Mary’s Parish — here, in Ottawa, Ontario!
It took me several months to follow The Holy Spirit’s continued ‘prompting’ to “return to the Faith of my fathers”; but I finally did it in the Fall of 2001! I got to know a very special young priest at that parish, who helped me so much — who was so caring, understanding and compassionate — a member of ‘The Companions of The Cross” — the Society of Priests founded by Fr. Bob Bedard! I even got to know Fr. Bob, personally; and he too, was so amazing to me — a previous ‘enemy’ of the Church and of it’s Priesthood!!
God is SO VERY, VERY GOOD — EVEN TO SOMEONE SUCH AS ME!!
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I was healed in Toronto and years ago was involved at St. mary’s in Ottawa- I live about an hour south of Ottawa and I am still am in touch with many Companions of the Cross and their parishioners
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