Week of October 31
It had been 16 years since I visited any gynecologist. I had no problems up until last year. I had been having irregular bleeding and heavy periods. I had several tests.... and they found that I had fibroids and a cyst on my ovary. My doctor suggested in November a full hysterectomy.
This would be my 5th surgery where they would be cutting my abdomen so I would have to sign a paper that I understand that there is more risk involved. I asked about keeping my ovaries so that I wouldn’t go into full menopause. My doctor said given my age and the cyst (that may require surgery to be removed in the future) she recommended taking everything. So she told me to let her know what I wanted to do.
I struggled with this until the day before my scheduled surgery, January 30.I had asked the Lord over and over again if I am doing the right thing. To be honest with you I was afraid. It was a pride issue also. I didn’t want anyone to know, because it could look as though I was weak or defeated. I chose not to tell anyone but my family.
I had these thoughts that were not of God that were telling me that things would not go right and I would die on the operating table. I was upset and I
was up late at night worrying. I picked up the Bible looking for an answer. I went to several church services seeking solace but the negative thoughts just continued worse than ever. It was like the more positive I received the more negative I became. This whole thing was overwhelming. Pastor always says that the battle is in the mind. Let me tell you what was going on in my head was a war.
I had decided that I would go to women's group and afterwards I would call the doctor to tell her I decided to delay the surgery. But when I went to women's group Sandy who has
always been such a comfort to me and my family, praying for us etc., came up to me and told me she was happy to see me there and asked me if I would be now able to come on Tuesdays. I told her what was going on and she began to talk and I knew the Lord was speaking to me through her because a peace and comfort came on me. The attacks immediately stopped. Sharon prayed for me and I was relaxed and knew what I had to do and it was right. I would have the operation.
Everything went extremely well in surgery and I was up walking in 8 hours, I went home two days later. When I was in the hospital I had such comfort knowing that Jesus was there with me. The nursing staff commented on how fast I was up and walking
and I knew that it was the Lord giving me the ability to get around so quickly.
When I returned a week later to have the staples removed my doctor shared what she didn’t want to tell me on the telephone. She said they tested everything that was taken out and found that I
had cancerous cells in the body of my uterus. This is an extremely fast growing cancer. Every time the uterus sheds, the cancer grows and starts spreading into the blood. The recommended procedure for this is a full hysterectomy. What they found was that the cancerous cells were still intact and were concentrated in one area of the uterus
My doctor told me that I was a lucky woman that someone was watching over me. I said I know God is. She said you are cured. She kept saying that over and over. We cried and held one another.
My doctor had no idea that the cancer cells were there. I asked her why it wasn't seen on all the tests. She said that where it was located no test would have detected it. I cried even more. If I had not had this operation I would be looking at 5-6 months, that’s all.
If my doctor had not taken my ovaries she would have had to go back in and get them. When cancer is present the best operation is actually cutting your abdomen (what I had) because when they do the other surgery there is a risk of dropping cells.
What an awesome God we have. Not only did He heal me of something that would have killed me but also He didn't even let me know that I had it and my family never had to go through that worry and anguish. I do not have to know everything. I just have to trust Him. No glory can be given to any test or doctor but only to God because He knew and no one else did. I am so grateful words can’t describe.
Jackie Harmon
Richmond ,Virginia
Incredible true stories that touch the heart and tug at the soul. Are they chance or destiny, coincidence or fate? Do you have your own Go Figure story? Want to share it? E-mail us at gofigureamerica@yahoo.com
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Miracle Healings
Week of October 24
While in San Francisco I was ministering in a multi-ethnic church downtown. There were two deaf mute women who arrived late and I realized that God was going to touch them that day. When I prayed for them they both began speaking and each wept as she heard her own words for the first time.
"I can hear, I can hear!"
One woman was also blind. She had no optic nerve in her right eye. When I prayed for her, she received her sight.
During a previous meeting in Washington State I walked up to a woman and prophesied to her (without knowing her condition) that the Lord was going to heal her hips and knees. She laughed and said, "That's going to be hard, I have steel plates in my knees!" She ended up falling to the floor, laughing hysterically, and remained in that intermittent state for several hours. Five days later I received a phone call from the apostolic/pastoral leader of that region who indicated that the woman was completely healed!
Danny Steyne, apostolic leader, Mountain of Worship, Columbia, South Carolina
While in San Francisco I was ministering in a multi-ethnic church downtown. There were two deaf mute women who arrived late and I realized that God was going to touch them that day. When I prayed for them they both began speaking and each wept as she heard her own words for the first time.
"I can hear, I can hear!"
One woman was also blind. She had no optic nerve in her right eye. When I prayed for her, she received her sight.
During a previous meeting in Washington State I walked up to a woman and prophesied to her (without knowing her condition) that the Lord was going to heal her hips and knees. She laughed and said, "That's going to be hard, I have steel plates in my knees!" She ended up falling to the floor, laughing hysterically, and remained in that intermittent state for several hours. Five days later I received a phone call from the apostolic/pastoral leader of that region who indicated that the woman was completely healed!
Danny Steyne, apostolic leader, Mountain of Worship, Columbia, South Carolina
Sunday, October 17, 2010
The Lost Wallet
Week of October 17
Jim lost his wallet and that affected the whole family. It happened sometime Sunday although he didn’t realize he had misplaced his wallet until he was getting his things ready Sunday night for the morning commute.
He had washed two cars and detailed them Sunday afternoon so that was the first in place he looked. The rest of us started the search inside the house, starting with the obvious places like the nightstand by the bed and the buffet in the dining room. We progressed to feeling in the crevasses of the cushions on the couch and inside the levels of the Lazy Boy chair. Soon we were trashing the house. All was for naught.
Monday morning Jim drove off to work without his wallet and of course without his license, I prayed the wallet would be found. Monday night we resumed the search perhaps more frantically than the day before. Jim and the kids went out and checked the cars again and I looked around inside revisiting many of the same places I had searched before. No wallet. I prayed some more
Tuesday Jim was obviously still upset and began grumbling about the prospect of having to apply for a duplicate license and call the credit card companies to close the accounts. As he stood by
the door he said he was going to take my car this morning because the SUV was low on gas. I suggested we pray together, something we hadn’t done for awhile. So we did.
We didn’t ask that the wallet would be found but we praised the Lord for all that we did have confessing that we didn’t have to worry about these things but just give it all over to Him. I felt better after praying.
I walked him out to the car. As he opened the door he shouted, “There’s my wallet!”
I took a step forward and then I saw it too. It was on the floor in front of the back seat right in plain sight. He and the kids had searched both vehicles twice, most recently as last night. That wallet could not have been out in the open like that.
We looked at each other in disbelief. How did it get there? What if he hadn’t decided to take my car instead of his today?
Cathy Pansa
Shorewood, Illinois
Jim lost his wallet and that affected the whole family. It happened sometime Sunday although he didn’t realize he had misplaced his wallet until he was getting his things ready Sunday night for the morning commute.
He had washed two cars and detailed them Sunday afternoon so that was the first in place he looked. The rest of us started the search inside the house, starting with the obvious places like the nightstand by the bed and the buffet in the dining room. We progressed to feeling in the crevasses of the cushions on the couch and inside the levels of the Lazy Boy chair. Soon we were trashing the house. All was for naught.
Monday morning Jim drove off to work without his wallet and of course without his license, I prayed the wallet would be found. Monday night we resumed the search perhaps more frantically than the day before. Jim and the kids went out and checked the cars again and I looked around inside revisiting many of the same places I had searched before. No wallet. I prayed some more
Tuesday Jim was obviously still upset and began grumbling about the prospect of having to apply for a duplicate license and call the credit card companies to close the accounts. As he stood by
the door he said he was going to take my car this morning because the SUV was low on gas. I suggested we pray together, something we hadn’t done for awhile. So we did.
We didn’t ask that the wallet would be found but we praised the Lord for all that we did have confessing that we didn’t have to worry about these things but just give it all over to Him. I felt better after praying.
I walked him out to the car. As he opened the door he shouted, “There’s my wallet!”
I took a step forward and then I saw it too. It was on the floor in front of the back seat right in plain sight. He and the kids had searched both vehicles twice, most recently as last night. That wallet could not have been out in the open like that.
We looked at each other in disbelief. How did it get there? What if he hadn’t decided to take my car instead of his today?
Cathy Pansa
Shorewood, Illinois
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Sylvia's Fire
Week of October 10
The house seemed quieter than usual. Michael, my seventeen year old, had just left in the car for the store to return some soda cans and my mother, who lives with us, was away visiting my sister.
It was “Maddy” and I relaxing in the living room in the glow of the candlelight. “Maddy,” our miniature Schnauzer, was sprawled on the rug where he usually is when I’m in the room. I had no clue how this tranquil evening was about to change.
It was about nine on a work night so I decided to take my shower and get ready for bed.I normally take long showers but on this night I cut it short. I don’t know why but it is a good thing I did. As soon as I turned off the shower I heard the smoke alarms screaming and the dog scratching frantically at the bathroom door. I put on a pair of slacks, grabbed a towel and without thinking flung open the bathroom door. A thick wall of black smoke rushed in and I instinctively gasped—mistake. I choked, fell backward and fainted.
I don’t know what happened in the next minute or so. My first recollection is I’m standing outside, still wrapped in a towel staring at my house that is completely engulfed in flames. Maddy is with me barking frantically but I have no idea how either of us escaped that overpowering smoke. I ran to my neighbor’s house and Marcel took one look at the inferno behind me and called 911.
Michael had just left the store when he heard the sirens of the fire trucks. He pulled his car over to let the fire engines pass and as is his habit he raised his hand and offered a little prayer for those in distress. Little did he know that he was praying for his mother and his own house?
When the fireman arrived it seemed half the town was right behind them. The fire fighters did everything they could but the house was too far-gone. I never saw anything burn so quickly. Like many New England homes built in the 19th century the walls had been stuffed with newspapers and hay to provide insulation. Our old colonial went up like a tinderbox. All we could do was stand helplessly and watch our home burn.
A school friend of Mike’s pointed out an eerie sight. Framed in the window of an upstairs bedroom was the velvet portrait of Jesus hanging on the wall over Michael’s bed and illuminated by the flickering flames below.
We learned latter that the fire was started probably when the dog knocked over a candle on a table by the window that fell igniting a phone book left on the ataman. The window curtain caught on fire and the flames literally raced through the walls.
The next day, after spending a short night at my friend’s house, Michael and I returned to the ruins. There was only one wall standing. We found only two things not completely destroyed by the fire. One was a blanket my mother had crocheted although it reeked of smoke. The other was the framed portrait of Jesus that was still hanging on the one remaining wall.
When we took the portrait down there was no evidence of the fire. It didn’t even have a smoky smell to it. How do you explain that?
Sylvia Jarvis
Sturbridge, Massachusetts
The house seemed quieter than usual. Michael, my seventeen year old, had just left in the car for the store to return some soda cans and my mother, who lives with us, was away visiting my sister.
It was “Maddy” and I relaxing in the living room in the glow of the candlelight. “Maddy,” our miniature Schnauzer, was sprawled on the rug where he usually is when I’m in the room. I had no clue how this tranquil evening was about to change.
It was about nine on a work night so I decided to take my shower and get ready for bed.I normally take long showers but on this night I cut it short. I don’t know why but it is a good thing I did. As soon as I turned off the shower I heard the smoke alarms screaming and the dog scratching frantically at the bathroom door. I put on a pair of slacks, grabbed a towel and without thinking flung open the bathroom door. A thick wall of black smoke rushed in and I instinctively gasped—mistake. I choked, fell backward and fainted.
I don’t know what happened in the next minute or so. My first recollection is I’m standing outside, still wrapped in a towel staring at my house that is completely engulfed in flames. Maddy is with me barking frantically but I have no idea how either of us escaped that overpowering smoke. I ran to my neighbor’s house and Marcel took one look at the inferno behind me and called 911.
Michael had just left the store when he heard the sirens of the fire trucks. He pulled his car over to let the fire engines pass and as is his habit he raised his hand and offered a little prayer for those in distress. Little did he know that he was praying for his mother and his own house?
When the fireman arrived it seemed half the town was right behind them. The fire fighters did everything they could but the house was too far-gone. I never saw anything burn so quickly. Like many New England homes built in the 19th century the walls had been stuffed with newspapers and hay to provide insulation. Our old colonial went up like a tinderbox. All we could do was stand helplessly and watch our home burn.
A school friend of Mike’s pointed out an eerie sight. Framed in the window of an upstairs bedroom was the velvet portrait of Jesus hanging on the wall over Michael’s bed and illuminated by the flickering flames below.
We learned latter that the fire was started probably when the dog knocked over a candle on a table by the window that fell igniting a phone book left on the ataman. The window curtain caught on fire and the flames literally raced through the walls.
The next day, after spending a short night at my friend’s house, Michael and I returned to the ruins. There was only one wall standing. We found only two things not completely destroyed by the fire. One was a blanket my mother had crocheted although it reeked of smoke. The other was the framed portrait of Jesus that was still hanging on the one remaining wall.
When we took the portrait down there was no evidence of the fire. It didn’t even have a smoky smell to it. How do you explain that?
Sylvia Jarvis
Sturbridge, Massachusetts