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Miracles in My Life

There have been several times in my life when I have been saved from certain injury or death, and times when coincidences happened to my benefit that defied the odds. For the purposes here, I only list 2, that to me, are undeniable evidence of an unseen intervention.


My wife saved from death or great injury

My wife, Kathy, runs a clean establishment, it is one of the reasons I married her. This particular day she was out in the yard picking up the twigs that had fallen from the trees, one of which, we referred as the "spooky oak tree." The reason we called it spooky ,was because it was very large with a trunk of nearly 3 feet with huge limbs spreading out. Anyway, the twigs had to go so there was Kathy with her trusty bucket picking them all up. Suddenly, she began to feel sick to her stomach. So sick, that she abandoned the bucket and went inside the house and laid on the couch, immediately falling asleep. She woke up after about an hour and felt fine, so, heading back toward her task, she was interrupted by our neighbor that said, "We thought you were hurt." Kathy didn't know what she was talking about until she stepped toward the tree and saw that a very large limb had shed and hit the ground right where she had been working.

Since it is not my wife's nature to have sudden sick spells for no apparent reason, the only other possibilities are that the sickness was merely a lucky coincidence or divine intervention. I'll go with divine intervention. I think there are many times when the hand of tragedy is held back for God's purpose. Most of the time, the intervention is unseen and unnoticed however, sometimes the nature of the intervention is so apparent, it just can't be ignored. 

 

         My Father's Cancer Disappears

My father's diagnosis was grim, he had a "massive, inoperable" cancerous tumor in his colon, which had spread into his liver, and he was given 6 months to live. The diagnosis was verified by another doctor and as the weeks went by he steadily lost both weight and stamina.  After a few months, he had lost 30 lbs. and after being on his feet for five minutes, or so, he would be totally exhausted and have to sit down. The necessary arrangements had been completed, and we moved dad and mom to a care facility where life would be easier. The rest of the family was preparing for the soon approaching day when he would die, and frankly, we were OK with that. Dad had lived 82 years, and enjoyed most of the wonderful things that life offers.

In early October, I took dad to a fire prevention event south of our town. One of the events was going to be a demonstration of a fire-fighting airplane making a water drop, and since dad was a pilot in the Air Force, he enjoyed aircraft, and I knew he would like to see it perform. We had a good time even though dad was mostly confined to a chair, I had taken for him. On the way home, he startled me by commenting that he had recently been "feeling better."  I said that he "just might die of old age yet", and we laughed. As the next few weeks went by, he was indeed feeling better, his appetite improved and he was gaining weight.

With this turn of events, he paid the doctor a visit, and after examining dad, the doctor ask, "what have you been doing? I can find no trace of the tumor?" Dad said that in addition to what the doctor had done, which was some radiation treatments to shrink the tumor, that people had been praying for him. The doctor said "that must be it because there is nothing I have done, that is responsible for this happening." The doctor then said that he had been practicing for 20 years, and had "not seen anything like this before." Of course, we were thrilled and dad steadily improved, but was told by  the doctor caring for his liver, that the cancer was still there but "not doing much."  Dad lived another 2 years, most of which was in good enough health that mom and him made a lengthy road trip. He died the day after Christmas in 2002 after being bed-ridden for only about 2 weeks. Although we miss him, we appreciate the intervention from God that gave us 2 more useful years with him.

Since colon tumors don't normally disappear by themselves, we saw his healing as a miracle from God, and therefore, we give God the credit He so rightfully deserves.

PLEASE CONSIDER: That God's stated purpose, is the redemption of mankind.

Perhaps your life has been spared or a prayer answered to that end, and you just didn't notice.

Dad's Hands - A Tribute   2/11/2003    By: Keith L. Sorrels  

My father was Gerald A. Sorrels. His father, my grandfather, died when my dad was three years old. Because of this, my dad would not have been able to write a story like this about his dad.

What a blessing it is to have had a father like mine. 

Before I was born, dad's hands manipulated the controls and instruments of various Army Air Corps. aircraft including, the massive B-29 Super fortress. His airborne exploits would later provide me "bragging rights" when I was in junior high school. During the war, dad's hands would select Irene Ruth Moore as my future mother. This would prove to be an excellent choice by providing me with a loving and caring mother.

Shortly after the war, dad's hands worked for Southern California Electric Power Company. Being a capable person, dad was quickly promoted to Steam Plant Watch Engineer; a very responsible position. This provided me with food, shelter, toys, and security. I remember anxiously waiting for dad to come home on Christmas mornings after working the graveyard shift. Oh, how my little eyes kept straining to catch sight of him while looking out the front window.

I remember seeing dad's hands often clasp in prayer, as he kneeled by his bedside. Dad's hands were also often busy with the Lord's work. Dad's uncomplicated faith, provided me with a fertile seedbed where my eventual seeds of faith would land.

Dad's hands were also quite busy building things; a boat (and trailer), that provided the great adventures such as, cruising the Inside Passage of Alaska, and camping on James Island. He also hand built, a cabin from scratch in the mountains on a piece of property that was nothing short of a rock pile. This provided many wonderful times spent at the cabin, especially the snowy white Christmas's we spent there.

Dad's hands could fix just about any vehicle.  Jeeps, trucks, Ford Econoline Van, DKW, Volkswagen Transporter buses (which dad converted into campers), just to mention a few. I also remember one old car he owned while we lived in Grand Terrace, Ca. One day, just for fun, he fitted a hood ornament that was an airplane with a free spinning propeller. As I recall, we drove around the block a couple of times, then dad removed it because it was "too noisy." I remember thinking that it was pretty cool!

Dad's hands packed, re-packed and packed again those items that we needed for the many camping trips we went on as a family. One trip I would later repeat with my own sons, would be a hike into Havasu Canyon, Arizona.

One time, it was necessary to put my first house quickly onto the market, dad's hands (as well as mom's), painted my entire house. Is that love, or what? I remember often feeling my dad's hands patting my back during one of his famous Gerald Sorrels hugs.

During dad's last minutes on earth, his hands, those hands that had done so much, for so long, were then motionless and unresponsive to my touch.

The Lord gave dad's hands to him as instruments so he could play life's theme, a song he played well.

 

The mountain cabin that dad built in Forest Falls, Ca. It was built on a rock-pile and dad moved all the rocks by hand and even dug his own septic tank hole, formed, and poured the septic tank. My mind boggles just thinking about all of that work.