I had polio in 1948, when I was 8 years old.  By the time my paediatrician sent me to a children's hospital far away from my home, I was totally paralysed from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet.  But I still had feeling in my body from the waist up.  And what pain it was!  The most excruciating pain imaginable.  And from my waist down, no feeling whatsoever.  I had to be carried where ever I went.  But I walked out of that hospital, free of the paralysis but this horrible disease had already done so much damage to my body.

Now, it wasn't due to my faith that I was able to walk.  Nor was it the faith of those who prayed for me.  None of my family or anyone they knew had a clue about the faith preached today.  They all were hard-core Southern Baptists.  Their belief about healing was this: "God can do anything He wants to do.  But don't expect it.  If He happens to do something for you, then thank Him.  But don't expect that this is how He normally does things."

Therefore, I wasn't healed of the paralysis because of my faith or anyone else's that I'm aware of.  The polio left me deformed and crippled.  My right leg was much shorter than the other one.  My back was deformed.  My kidneys were deformed so that they couldn't function properly.  That excruciating pain that was part of the onslaught of the polio in my upper body, then ravaged my entire body.  There wasn't a single waking moment that I can remember from the time that I was 8 years old in 1948 until God healed me in 1973 that I didn't suffer that pain.  And on top of that, I became a stutterer of the worst kind when I had polio.  I couldn't talk to anyone without stuttering, not even to my own parents, until I met my husband. From the very first moment, I felt accepted and loved by him. But when other people were around us, I just couldn't talk. But he never laughed at me or made fun of me for not being able to talk (not even during those 27 years of his hard drinking) as everyone else did.  And back then, those with any kind of disability were treated as though they were not very smart, mentally.

<>I was treated that way by my own family, plus my mother had the idea that I must also be demon possessed, since polio back then was looked at by most preachers and Christians, I knew, as God's punishment for being evil.  So she tried to beat demons out of me continually, from the time that I came home from the hospital until I became engaged to my husband, two years after our first date.  I don't blame her though.  She did what she had been taught.  She was ignorant in what she did.  And she asked for my forgiveness before she died and admitted to all of those years that she had brutally abused me.  I just put my arms around her and cried with her. I told her that I had forgiven her when God saved me, when He showed me that what she did, she did in total ignorance. But all the while believing that what she was doing was in obedience to God's word.

Fast forward to February 12, 1973 -

The phone rang at 8:00 that night. It was Frank, my husband.  We had a very bad connection.  And I could understand very little of what he said.  But I could make out these few words: "I'm in the Marion County Jail, " he said.  And then the phone went dead.  After a few moments, I was able to get through to the jail and I talked to the arresting officer.  He listed a whole string of charges - DUI 3rd offense, DUS 2nd offence, having an open container in the car, running into a highway patrol car and totalling it, etc., that Frank was charged with.

"Frank is not coming home.  He isn't getting out on bail.  His money can't save him this time.  He will have to pay with 20 years of prison at least," the officer added.

Our little town was totally paralysed that day with 23 inches of snow on the ground, when little more than 5 inches of snow had ever fallen at one time, every 2 or 3 years or so, in my lifetime.  And then when it did snow, a little dusting of the white stuff was the norm.  It started snowing on that Friday afternoon before, 02-09-1973.  It snowed all night.  We awakened to a blizzard on Saturday morning.  It snowed all day Saturday and Saturday night.  But the sun was shining when I awakened on Sunday morning.  All businesses were closed.  Travel, except walking, was utterly impossible, except for large heavy trucks and jeeps from mostly the National Guard.

Frank began early that Monday morning, walking with his neighbourhood buddies back and forth to the liquor store.  By 1:00 that afternoon he was ready to ride.  Since he had no drivers license ( lost them on a DUI charge earlier), Frank wanted me to drive him. But I had only had drivers license for about a year (never had them before).  And I was afraid to drive in those conditions.  And especially with Frank's drunk condition, I knew that I couldn't depend on him to help me drive or help if I ran into trouble.  I didn't see how I could get the car out of our yard, much less, getting it going on the snow-iced covered road, when you couldn't tell where the road was.  But Frank found a way and finally got in the car and managed somehow to drive it away.

As I heard the car leave, I prayed these words, "God stop him."  I was afraid for not only Frank's life but also for others, who might be out there at the same time that he was.  Did I pray in faith, believing that God was going to answer my prayer?  I should say not.  I prayed out of sheer desperation, hoping beyond hope that somehow God wouldn't let Frank die in his drunken condition or not kill some innocent soul out there on the highway.  Nevertheless, God answered my prayer.  He stopped Frank right in his tracks.  It was the first prayer that I had prayed so precisely according to my need since I called out to God in 1967, "God save me," and he did right there on the spot on my death bed in the hospital (When Jesus Became My Salvation).  And this was the first time that God had answered my prayer exactly as I prayed it since He saved me.  This is how God stopped Frank, according to the arresting officer.

"I had stopped my patrol car in the middle of the highway, leaving my lights on and the blue light flashing while I left the car to try to determine where the side ditches and fields on both sides began.  But I couldn't tell, since the snow-covered fields were even with the snow-covered highway.  The roads were so treacherous, I never expected that any other cars would be on the road or that my car would be in the way at the bottom of the hill.  It never crossed my mind that if a car happened to be coming off the top of the hill, that he wouldn't be able to see the flashing lights and have plenty of time to stop.  It had taken me so long to drive, or better yet, slide the 5 miles away from town.  But as I always say, I believe God watches over drunks and fools.  And a drunk behind the wheel of a car is the biggest fool of all.  Still in the field, I saw a '70 Mercury flying down the top of the hill. The car wasn't sliding at all and the driver didn't seem to be having any trouble driving the car through the ice and snow.  That is until he must have caught sight of my patrol car. He slammed on brakes and slid right into my car, totalling it. The driver got out of his car and I saw that it was Frank. Not a scratch on him.  But the front end of his car was caved in.  He blew 27 on the breathalyser."

Shock, despair and total fear gripped my entire being like a vice, as I hung up the phone.  What was I to do?  How could I make it for 20 years with Frank locked up, unable to work and pay the bills?  I had a job but I knew that my salary alone wouldn't be enough to raise our two children and provide them shelter, food and clothes, plus all of the other essentials of raising a family and keeping two children in school.

I looked at my children, covered in blankets and quilts in front of the open oven of the electric stove in the kitchen.  The fuel oil for our heater had run out on Saturday,  And the trucks were unable to get through the snow to bring any.  I wondered how I could pay for any heating fuel when they were able to make a delivery.  Twenty dollars was all that I had left from my pay check that week.  And that was my tithe money.  We still had electricity though.  The electric stove was our only source of heat.  Kim was asleep on a pallet on the floor and Jimmy was wrapped up in a chair beside her.  He was having an asthma attach and running a high fever.  It was such a struggle for him to breathe.  I picked up the phone to call my daddy to come get us.  But my phone was dead.  But when I thought about it, later,  I realized that if I had been able to get through to my daddy, that he couldn't have driven in all of that snow.  So there I was.  Nowhere to turn, and no person to turn to, except God.

Finally, with more medication, Jimmy's asthma attach stopped.  He fell asleep as I rocked him.  I put both children into one bed and piled the quilts and blankets on them to keep them warm.  The dam of pent-up emotions burst in a flood of tears, as I fell on my knees before God.

"God, what am I going to do?  How will I provide shelter, clothing and food for my children," I prayed.  Suddenly, I felt lead to read Matthew 6:25-33.  I had never seen that scripture before.  The words jumped out at me.

"Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what you shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on."  I read on down to verse 33.  "But seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness and all these things shall be added unto you."

This was the answer to all my needs.  God had spoken directly to me through His word.  And that was the first time that He had ever done so.  All of the shock, despair and fear left me.  Falling back down on my knees, I began praising God.  Now, I had never heard of or seen anyone praising God before.  But before I knew it, I had both hands lifted high in the air, as I shouted the praises of God to the top of my voice.  And I was suddenly filled with warm liquid love of Jesus, saturating my entire being.  It was so intense, with every flooding wave that it became difficult to breathe and speak. Uncontrollable utterances, unfamiliar to me, began flowing out of my mouth with each breath I took.  But I knew that it was Jesus, taking me to a new depth in Him that I had never know before.

Instantly, I was healed from all pain.  My right leg was normal and was the same length as my left one.  My back was straight.  My kidneys functioned properly.  And my tongue was loosed to speak to tens of thousand of people without stuttering.  This is how God heals today, as He has always healed: instantly, immediately, in the self-same hour.

On top of that, Frank was home in five days.  He had to pay a hefty fine and go without drivers license for another ten years.  My life was never the same after that.  I fell in love with Jesus.  I got on fire for Him and was soon being labelled "a fanatic."  Praise God!!