A Story

Bishop Ruben told us the story of his then 11 year old son who had a bone marrow disease that left him unable to produce red blood cells. After over 40 blood transfusions, the doctors told the family the boy needed a bone marrow transplant or he would die soon. Except, the transplant cost $100,000 and the family made maybe $100 per month. The boy, on the return trip from Nairobi to Kabula, reminded his dad, then an Anglican priest, of Jesus throwing out the demon from the epileptic boy. "Dad, when Jesus cured the boy, he told the spirit to never come back. When you pray for me, you pray for a cure but you don't order the disease to never return." When they arrived home, Ruben told his elderly parents the grim news that their grandson would likely die within the month. That night, thinking more of the boy's comment about prayer, Ruben and his brother Robert stood at either end of the boy's bed,  and prayed their hearts out that the illness killing the boy leave him and never return. The boy went to sleep as did the rest of the family. The next morning the grandfather opened the chicken coop to let the chickens out.  The young boys, like Ruben's son, were charged with keeping hawks at bay since the hawks often waited for the chicks to emerge -- breakfast. Ruben's boy had been too weak for months to take up this task, but something changed that morning. The boy came running out into the yard, picked up stones, and kept the hawks away. He then went back to lay down. A few days later, taking the boy to the local doctor to test his red cell count, the doctor asked if the boy just received a transfusion. No, he had not, came the reply. Why do you ask? Because his red cell count is nearly normal. A few more days pass, another test, and his count is normal. The boy is now 34 years old, in his third year of university in Turin, Italy. Stories like these remind me that while God always heals, restoring those who surrender to peace -- sometimes there are also cures. Amen.