I am God's 'Miracle Man'
I am God's 'Miracle Man'
Technically, I didn’t have a stroke, but the symptoms were much the same. It was an event that changed my life forever.
It was a typical Sunday morning. The kids were rushing around and the household was getting ready for a day of Salvation Army activities. Suddenly, I had the most intense headache I’d ever experienced.
I lay on the bed and tried to relax. My wife gave me some tablets and after a few minutes the edge had been taken off my headache, but the pain continued.
I went to church and by the end of the day I was feeling rough. There had been a number of times that I’d taken myself away from the activities to find a quiet place to rest. Later that night, my wife asked if I was okay. I said maybe a good night’s rest would make things better.
The next day I woke early and went to work. However, I quickly realised I was not okay. I could hardly type, my writing wasn’t legible and my speech was very slurred. My wife picked me up from work and we headed to the hospital. Tests were conducted and it was identified that I had a bleed on the brain.
My condition worsened.
After spending a couple of weeks in hospital I was scheduled to have surgery. The first three procedures weren’t successful and a more involved operation was planned. On 16 July, my daughter’s birthday, I underwent a procedure that lasted more than 14 hours. I spent many weeks in recovery but was unable to eat and could hardly drink. My weight dropped by 24kg. I was moved to a rehabilitation hospital, but things didn’t improve.
During this time I was blessed by so many people who took the time to visit me and support my family. It was a beautiful example of the love of Jesus.
After three months, in and out of hospital, I had a second operation to try and stop my weight loss and fix my constant nausea. This was a success and I was soon able to eat again and hold down fluid. I was finally turning the corner in my recovery.
Rehabilitation was slow and my days soon became a never-ending ritual of therapy and rest. I remember resigning myself to life in a wheelchair. Throughout this time I was continually at prayer, for both myself and those around me. I remember waking one morning and saying to myself that it was time to get up. I stood, took a few steps and then I took more and more. I had decided that I would walk.
To the astonishment of my therapists, when they arrived at my house later that day I answered the door to them standing.
I continued to grow stronger day by day. I was walking better, speaking more and able to spend increased time with my family. I realised more and more that many people were praying for me and my family. Some of my therapists were calling me their ‘miracle man’. I knew that it was God who was responsible for the miracle and was very happy to share my salvation story with them.
My recovery continues. My walking, talking and general wellbeing is in a much better place. The days of miracles are not over and I know that just where God needs me, I will be ready to serve.