Sis. Lewis's Testimony
Excerpt:
“I would wash my wound everyday, keep it clean, but the wound kept getting larger and larger. So finally one day I was in the bathroom cleaning my wound and I heard the Lord say “Wound… Hospital.” I didn’t know exactly what that was but when God… I’m a firm believer when God does something for you he does it well and he don’t make no mistakes. So if God said he’s a healer, I believe that! And this wound started out small, as I would say, it got to be bigger and then it lasted for ten months, and that’s a long time. And the enemy was coming to me and said “Well your gonna loose your leg” and this. But I believed God, I stood on his word. And God has always proven himself real to me, he has always answered my prayers”
Earlier this year, Sister Lewis gave the testimony of how God brought healing to a wound that developed on her leg. God lead her to the “Wound Center” where they doctored her wound that was not healing. Click below to hear her tell the story. (Click here to see the medical pictures mentioned in the testimony)
Listen Now:
(00:08:57)
Sis-Lewis-The-Ministry-Of-Healing.mp3 (2.1 MB)
Another great post about testimonies of healing is “Adventures In God” shared by Bro. Abshire. Click Here for more!
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Pastor Scott Smith's Testimony
Excerpt:
“I walked into the men’s prayer room and I said, “If you see where I’m not mature enough or lack character; if this would go to my head; I would backslide, be a reproach to your church, then I want you to let me lose and lose miserably. But if I can be a witness, if I could bring kids to church, if I can let my light shine,” And I said “Then I want you to give me a speech.” And I want you to know when I prayed that, the anointing began to flow and ya see this is… this was unnatural to me for something like this to happen and ya know. And so I’m writing, I mean I am writing so fast and I’m thinking about that nine year old prayer meeting and I’m thinking about other things that happened and I’m writing and it’s just coming and it’s just.. I mean I remember literally my wrist hurting and I’m saying “God would you slow down, this… just slow down!” It was just ya know. And so in about thirty minutes it was all written. Folded it up, went home, got in the bed, went to sleep. [The] next day I go to school, and I’m walking down the hall. Now I had heard by way of the grapevine (now the grapevine is when you hear something you ain’t supposed to hear). And I had heard by the way of the grapevine that Randy Angsworth who was the assistant student council sponsor to Miss Nichols, had been meeting during the student council hour in the library, working with Mike Connelle on his speech. They were collaborating and writing a speech together. So I’m walking in the hall between class, and Mr. Randy Angsworth comes beside me and, “Hey Scott, how ya doin?” I said, “Oh oh yeah, I’m doin great.” He said, “Well ya know… uh, just a few days here we’re gonna give speeches. You ready?” I said, “Well, I’m gettin ready.” And I don’t know if his conscience was bothering him or what but he said, “Is anybody helping you write your speech?” And I looked at him and I said, “Yes sir.” And he said, “Who?” And I said, “God!” … He looked at me… like I had fell out of tree!”
Bro. Scott Smith is the pastor of Christ Center United Pentecostal Church in West Columbia, South Carolina. On May 15, 2005 he shared his personal testimony entitled “Taking A Stand And Running To Win” at Victory Tabernacle in Burbank, California.
To listen to his testimony, click below…
(00:51:33)
Pastor-Scott-Smith-Taking-A-Stand-And-Running-To-Win.mp3 (11.7 MB)
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Vivian's Testimony
When I walked down the empty corridor, the bare floor seemed to stretch on forever. Nearby, the clicks of my mother’s shoes rang sharply in my ears. When I opened the large metal door, my senses were immediately flooded by a pungent, stale stench. In front of me were rows of steel stools and bulletproof transparent windows. As I stood molded against the wall, my body shuddered, yet I hid behind a cover of indissoluble emotion. A short, stocky man with a close-shaved haircut, wearing pale blue overalls approached a window. Tears came to my eyes, but my feet remained stationed in place. My mother walked over to a steel stool and took a seat. When she picked up the receiver, I watched as an array of emotions swept across her face. After a few minutes of conversation, she motioned me over. Slowly, I lifted one leg and then the other. At the window, I stared across at a face which I had adored my whole life.
“Hello, mija,” he said casually. With those words, the torrent of tears that pressed against closed lids released a single trickle down my stricken face. Why? I asked myself. Why did our family reunion have to take place in this remote prison cell? Why was I crying? You have been through this many times; I tried convincing myself. What is the difference now? Nevertheless, my heart gave way at the sight of my father, three feet in front of me, separated by the glass partition. “Hello, daddy,” I said at last. Read More »
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