compiled by Alliance Life staff
Last year, the Alliance video team filmed multiple Alliance family members sharing the stories of Jesus’ healing touch that they have held most dear through their own healing journeys. In this article, you will find the testimonies of five of these participants. Some have experienced the fullness of Christ’s healing power, while others are still in a period of waiting. We hope the lessons they each have learned about prayer, healing, and Christ will encourage you to walk closer with Him and trust Him to move in power through your own story.
I was diagnosed with a kidney disease at 13. At that time, the doctor told me I would need a kidney transplant eventually, but not until I was in my 40s. At 24, I went in for a routine knee surgery that led to me having to go to a nephrologist, who told me that I needed a transplant immediately or I would have to go on dialysis. My dad, mom, and two brothers immediately were tested, and my youngest brother was a perfect match.
The transplant was scheduled and completed in January 2001. Unfortunately, that kidney never worked and was removed about three weeks later. In May 2001, my father donated his kidney to me, and the doctors said it was deformed and that it would not work. To our surprise, it gave me four and a half years of success.
In 2005, my body began to reject the kidney; at that time, my other brother donated his. This kidney worked for about 11 months. At that time of rejection, I almost died. I was in a semicoma for three days, and when I came out, I had to go on dialysis until 2011.
In 2007, the hospital where I had the three previous surgeries would no longer consider me for any more transplants. While this was difficult to hear, my nephrologist told me not to lose hope and recommended me to another hospital. It was here, in December 2010, that I was told they would put me on the waiting list, but I would likely not receive a call for a possible match for at least three and a half years.
Only six months later while I was in a leadership meeting, I had a sudden resolve within my spirit that I was going to be healed one way or another that year. On Friday, September 16, 2011, I received a phone call from Cleveland Clinic that I had missed. About 10 minutes after that call, my wife called me to ask if I had heard from the Cleveland Clinic. I listened to the voicemail, and they had said that they needed me immediately as they had a cadaver donor kidney that was a perfect match. On Sunday, September 18, 2011, I received my fourth transplant, and it has been working ever since.
To God be the glory!
“Oh, you are an interesting case. I guess you are our ‘mystery’ patient.”
I have heard these things from doctors again and again. I can relate to the woman with a bleeding disorder who saw many doctors, but none were able to heal her (see Mark 5:25–34). I had an undiagnosed chronic illness for over five years. I never had a dramatic moment or hospital stay. I’m not even sure when exactly to mark the beginning of my illness, but over a period of two years, my health steadily declined.
During this trial, my church organized a prayer and encouragement train. For 20 days, I received daily encouragement through letters and cards that helped me feel cared for and connected to the Body. One woman, referencing the paralytic in Mark 2:1–12, wrote, “I am praying that you can rest easy knowing you have brothers and sisters holding the corners of the mat and bringing you to the Lord.”
As my health deteriorated, my world became smaller. Eventually, I could not do much more than lay in bed and go to medical appointments. When I was unable to leave my house for more than 30 to 40 minutes at a time, I missed fellowship. But some of the sweetest moments of my life were in those days of painful limitation. Awakened by pain, the dark hours of the night became a holy time of communion with the Lord. Because of those days, my Savior is more real and more precious to me than ever before.
Finally, a doctor reviewed my file, took in my pale skin and unexplained weight loss, and very gently told me I was dying. He did not have a diagnosis, but he would help me survive while we searched for one. By God’s grace, his treatments stopped my decline. Over a period of nine months, my symptoms faded away. But I was left with debilitating fatigue.
As my strength increased, we found our way to an Alliance church. To my surprise, the church readily prayed for healing. To my greater surprise, each time I received prayer for physical healing, the Holy Spirit would instead heal a spiritual or emotional wound. The Lord is healing my whole person—spiritual, emotional, and physical. Recently, an elder prayed for my physical healing. Nine days later, Jesus released me from the debilitating fatigue. He wants more wholeness for me than I even knew was possible. He’s making me holy, a new creation. Jesus said, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full” (John 10:10). Somehow, Jesus has brought abundant life out of a period of suffering and loss. Isn’t He amazing?
In 1988, I developed chronic back pain. An orthopedic specialist said my X-rays revealed no spinal abnormalities and that the debilitating pain was in my head. He offered no treatment options. Soon, I couldn’t sit or walk without intense pain and became almost bedridden.
I had been exposed to the gospel but did not fully understand the message of the Kingdom—a life of abundance right now. I prayed for healing, but my prayers went unanswered. Eventually, I questioned whether God wanted to heal me.
The Lord used chiropractic care to help me manage the pain. My X-rays showed that my spine had lost its natural curve, most likely due to several falls I took as a child. I still suffered frequent setbacks and sometimes needed adjustments several times a week. I believed my condition was something I’d have to live with all my life.
In 2001, the C&MA National Office hired me to serve on what is now the Development team. During orientation, I learned about the Fourfold Gospel, which teaches that Jesus is our Healer. One day, a colleague gave me a booklet to help me through a personal crisis. In it, I learned about the power of speaking truth and the importance of agreeing with God’s Word (see Prov. 18:21). Soon I was reading The Authority of the Believer by C&MA pioneer missionary John A. MacMillan. I was thrilled by the exploits of this man of God who continually operated in the authority that Christ had restored to His people through the Atonement. I started commanding my symptoms to leave in Jesus’ name and saw immediate improvement. But I continued to see a chiropractor because I had been told that regular adjustments were necessary.
I showed up for my adjustment one day and learned that my chiropractor had left the country. When I started asking for referrals, I realized I had been doing things I couldn’t do for nearly 17 years. My husband and I were moving, and for a month, I had been carrying boxes up from our basement to load into a truck without any pain whatsoever. At the onset of my condition, I couldn’t pick up a half-gallon of milk without being in severe pain. I no longer needed a chiropractor and haven’t seen one in nearly 20 years.
My healing journey taught me the importance of surrounding myself with people of faith who understand how God’s Kingdom works and how to access the promises of His Word. I am greatly indebted to my friends at the National Office and others who introduced me to the whole gospel, through which the abundant life Christ died for is available to all His people.
Though I grew up as a missionary kid, the gospel was head-knowledge rather than something I embraced with all my heart. For 14 years after college, I bought into the lies of the enemy, making myself the center of the universe. I drank alcohol because of the way it made this awkward and shy young man suddenly feel confident and invincible. What started as seemingly innocent social drinking turned into an insidious addiction. I soon found myself in an endless cycle of misery and hopelessness; alcohol had moved from being my companion to a cruel slave master.
As consequences piled up, I realized I had a serious problem and needed to quit. I was at the end of myself, having no options, and could no longer bear the pain and isolation brought about by years of selfishness and sin. Finally, one night, I mustered up a final cry for help, “Please help me, Jesus.” Over all these years, even though I was unfaithful to God, He had remained faithful to me.
I then reached out to the people who were living examples of Christ for me: my parents. As with the prodigal son, they welcomed me back with open arms, not holding against me the years of self-centered hurt I had put them through. I vividly remember when the Holy Spirit filled my heart and prompted me to gather my family around for my confession of faith upon Jesus Christ through Galatians 2:20. In that moment, it became as real to me as the air I breathed: “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”
It was Christ alone who delivered me from my self-made abyss called alcoholism, and to Him alone belongs all glory. For what was indeed an impossibility of man to restore my brokenness, He showed to be possible through His atoning work on the Cross. Now that Christ has opened the eyes of my heart to see His beauty and majesty, I am compelled to share Him and His glorious grace with others still enslaved by substance abuse. Those within the throes of addiction are awaiting the good news. Once they see and savor Jesus Christ, they will cast all else aside to follow Him and be in His magnificent presence.
“I believe God can heal me; I just don’t know that He will.”
That’s where I began my second-time-around cancer story. But as I experienced God’s healing throughout my journey, my perspective began to change.
About a year ago, when I was diagnosed with a rare recurring form of metastatic squamous cell carcinoma that appeared in at least two lymph nodes in my neck, the prognosis from my doctor was immunotherapy that requires an infusion every six weeks for the rest of my life. Having already gone through one round of treatment for this cancer in 2020 that included daily radiation for 35 days plus chemotherapy once per week, I was not too enthusiastic about jumping into more treatments with a plethora of possible life-altering side effects.
I reached out to an intimate group of friends I trusted to pray for discernment and healing. What God revealed to me changed my life and set me on a course toward a deeper understanding of who He is, how He loves me, and what His will is for me—and for you.
I learned that God’s Word is His will. I began to pray and claim for myself 101 verses that affirm God’s will for healing. I kept on praying and receiving His truth about me. When His Word convicted me of something I needed to do, I did it. I listened for the Holy Spirit and followed His peace. I am not a sick person trying to get well—I am a healed person fighting against something that is trying to steal my health. And I fight with every tool available to me—prayer and lifestyle changes, like diet, exercise, etc.
Over the course of a couple months, the size of the affected lymph nodes decreased. The professionals said the change was statistically insignificant, but I knew it was an encouragement from God. At my request, my oncologist agreed to take a “watch and wait” approach. At the time of this writing, we are still waiting and watching. This metastatic cancer—whose nature it is to spread—has remained contained. And while those changes remain “statistically insignificant,” God is doing a bigger work.
I am leaning into my faith in God, learning how to receive the power of Jesus in me, and listening for the Holy Spirit. I feel strong. I sleep like a log, my mind is sharp, and I am running circles around kids half my age.
Most importantly, I have complete peace as I believe God can heal me, and He will.
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