Did God Answer My Prayer?

I couldn’t have captured a better parking spot if I’d prayed for one. The spot was on the end of a row, practically at the Zellers’ front entrance—any closer and it would have been marked ‘handicap’.

Mission accomplished, on my way out of the store, back to my red dirt-streaked van, I passed a hobbling woman. She had a cane. As I hurried past pressing the unlock button on my key, I silently prayed, “Lord, heal her.” I was reaching for the van’s door handle  when the woman with the cane caught up to me, “This isn’t yours.”

“Whoops. I have one just like it.”

“That’s okay. I’ve done that myself. Once I thought my husband was picking me up from work and got in with a total stranger.”

“Your dirt streaks are even similar to mine.”

“Red vans, they’re a dime a dozen.”

“I paid a dime for mine, too.”

We laughed. 

“I recognize mine by the doo-dad on the mirror.”

I looked at the Christmas decoration hanging from the mirror and then down at her cane, “Well, Merry Christmas and I pray your leg gets better.”

Then she told me about her knee operations and that her legs would never be completely well.

“Jesus can heal you. May I pray for you right now?”

“Sure.”

I bent down to touch her leg, “Lord heal these knees…in Jesus name.”

She got into her dirty red van, and filled with joy I headed over to the next row where mine was parked.

I believe God is healing her.

I want to hear about it. I should have given her my phone number.