Healed overnight

 

 

When Nick Lovitt was twenty-five, he broke a bone in his left foot as he tripped over a grocery cart. It quickly developed into painful rheumatoid arthritis. If you saw the successful Colorado real estate broker today, you would have no clue how crippled he once was.

He shares his story:

Within forty-eight hours after I broke my left foot, gout set in. Over the next two years as it progressed, three different doctors diagnosed my condition as "gouty rheumatoid arthritis." The joints swelled in my left leg--foot, toes, ankle, knee, and hip. Calcium spurs developed on the bottom of both feet and in my left ankle and knee.

I was taking three of the most powerful pain drugs available. In addition, I swallowed thirty to forty aspirin a day, but the medication did not suppress all my intense pain.

When I stood for the first time each morning, the torturing pain felt like nails being driven into the bottoms of my feet. The big toe on my left foot swelled to two inches in diameter and the left ankle to fourteen inches in circumference, twice its normal size. I couldn't walk without a cane.

My ability to function in real estate was greatly impaired. I would drive my customers to a house and let them walk through to see it themselves to save myself the pain of standing. After two-and-one-half years of this--even while taking in excess of eighty pills a day--I knew I could not endure the pain much longer.

On a November night in 1971, I was desperate. "Lord, I cannot go on with this pain and be a good father, husband, and provider for my family. The pain is too much for me. I can't take it anymore. Lord Jesus, you must heal me or take me home. Please do something," I continued, sobbing like a baby.

I went to the medicine cabinet. As my wife watched in amazement, I flushed down the commode fourteen different bottles of pills plus two thousand aspirin. I was still sobbing and crying aloud. Then I went to bed not knowing what was going to happen.

The next morning I awoke on my back--a big switch after sleeping on my stomach for more than two years to avoid more intense pain. Something dramatic had happened in my body. I put my feet over the side of the bed and stood up immediately. No pain! No pain! No pain!

Cautiously, I walked out onto the tile floor. Then I ran outside, up and down the concrete sidewalk. Still no pain! I was crying, knowing I had been completely healed of gouty arthritis.

That very day I went back to the doctor and asked him to X-ray my feet. He compared them to previous X-rays, taken just two weeks before. He was astounded. Every calcium spur was gone. He had only one plausible explanation: Had I passed kidney stones--itself an excruciating ordeal?

"No," I told him pointedly, "I asked God to heal me."

"Medically, it is impossible for this to happen," he responded, still studying the two sets of X-rays. But God had performed my miracle instantly. In the twenty-five years since, I have not had a sign of reoccurrence.

The Miracle-Worker is still at work--on duty night and day.

 

From: Miracles Happen When You Pray by Quin Sherrer, 1997, pag. 131, 133, Zondervan Publishing House,  Grand Rapids, Michigan.

 

 

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