A Different Kind of Healing

Last year, an earthquake left thousands in a neighboring city without homes and basic necessities. My Frontiers team had done what we could to help before several humanitarian organizations took over the relief efforts. Thankfully, physical needs were now being met on a larger scale, which meant I could focus on spiritual needs.

The rising sun warmed my face as I entered the encampment one morning, finally without a lengthy to-do list. I hoped to reconnect with some of the families I’d previously served and spend some time praying for them.

I wove between several tents silently asking the Lord to guide me to the right people. Then I spotted a familiar face etched with age and anguish—Fehim.

One man said he had never heard a prayer like that before.

I said hello and he smiled wearily. “Your hands are empty today, my friend.”

I held them up as though to prove his point. “Yes. But I’d like to pray for you and your family in Jesus’ name. Would that be all right?”

“Please, come in.” He motioned me inside his tent, and his wife prepared tea as I sat on the rug. Soon, more than a dozen people joined us—Fehim’s brothers and their wives, plus two generations of children.

Fehim introduced his nephew Halil, who was experiencing ringing in his ears, then his granddaughter Saray, who had a broken leg. Within a few minutes, almost everyone had shared a need.

I prayed for their ailments but didn’t stop there. “Lord, You know these wounds and pains better than we do, but You care most about the heart. Comfort Halil with the knowledge that You see and hear him. Show Saray how she can lean on You.”

After I closed my prayer in the name of Jesus, many in the group wiped tears from their eyes. One man said he had never heard a prayer like that before. “You speak their names like God knows and loves them.”

“He does,” I assured him.

Fehim asked if I could bring them a Bible.

When I rose to leave, Fehim grabbed my arm and admitted his own need. “I had a heart attack recently.” Then, just for my ears, he added, “I am afraid to die.”

I laid my hand on his shoulder and prayed for him as I had the others, asking God for healing and strength.

Afterward I asked, “May I share a passage from the Bible with you?”

When Fehim nodded, I began by telling him how death had come to humanity in the Garden of Eden. But Jesus defeated it on the cross, and anyone who believes in Him will have eternal life.

Fehim’s eyes lit up, and his brothers were eager to hear more. When I finally said goodbye, Fehim asked if I could bring them a Bible. I told him I would bring one on my next visit.

The Holy Spirit had been at work.

After leaving Fehim’s tent, I visited two more large families and prayed for everything from flu-like symptoms to pinched nerves and herniated disks. There were no immediate physical healings, but as the sun set, I walked away encouraged.

There had been countless tears of joy, growing excitement about God’s Word, and requests for three more Bibles.

The Holy Spirit had been at work. I couldn’t point to a specific miracle as proof, but the people I’d spoken to had started a journey toward a different kind of healing. The kind that may one day lead broken hearts to the only One who makes them brand new.

Orar:

• Praise God for Frontiers workers who are faithfully sharing the Good News wherever the Lord calls them.
• Pray that the Holy Spirit will continue to work in the hearts of Muslim families like Fehim’s, leading them to accept Christ’s offer of true healing and reconciliation with the Father.
• Ask God to prepare and send more workers who will bring Christ’s message of hope and salvation to the Muslim world.