The Story Behind the Title

When our son Adrian was little, we prayed to God for his healing. Often we entered his room at night, laid our hands on him, and prayed for him as he was sleeping. Other times we talked with Adrian about healing and prayer, but left it to him to decide what he wanted. It was important to us that he would not be made to feel inferior for being sick. To us, he was absolutely perfect just the way he was. He did not have to get healed for us to love him.

Many people prayed for Adrian for years. His grandma often told us that she was praying for his healing. I thanked her, knowing that I myself was unable to remain constantly pleading to God. However, it felt good to have someone who could lift our arms toward heaven. I prayed for Adrian to be happy and pain free, but the nursing situation was so demanding that we were forced to be present in our daily life. We could not remove ourselves to get the necessary distance to see things objectively. We did not live with a constant dream of seeing Adrian healed. What we longed for, was for ourselves and our children to get a new encounter with the living God.

A few weeks before our first family trip to Bethel Church, we realized that there were several signs and wonders going on there. We had heard of it before, but had failed to comprehend the extent to which they happened. Many people were healed, and God revealed himself through different manifestations that occurred in the church.

We discussed how to approach this when it came to Adrian. We were open to healing and prayer and had seen people in our surroundings getting healed, but it was important to us for our son not to feel devalued. Because Adrian was in a wheelchair it was quite obvious that something was wrong, and the thought of having him surrounded by complete strangers wanting to pray for him concerned us.

We decided that we would talk to him about it.

"Adrian, quite a few wonders and healings happen in Bethel, and maybe somebody would like to pray for you. What are your thoughts about that?"

Our 12-year-old considered this before shrugging, "I don't know. I have a good life."

It is possible to have two thoughts at the same time. On one hand I thought, "What is wrong with you, kid? Don't you want to get healthy?" On the other, I was grateful beyond words. As a mother, it was balm to my soul to hear that my son had a good life, regardless of disease and circumstances.