One Night in Texas

God and I were having a good old knock-down-drag-out one Sunday night long ago in Texas. I finally said, "Awww, to hell with it!" -- then proceeded to get drunk.

As I drove around (DWI) I happened onto a little frame house-turned-church with a big cardboard sign out front that proclaimed, "Jesus Heals!" I pulled off the street, parked on their grass and walked in (with a fair amount of stability).

It was a charismatic service in progress. I sat down beside a little old lady who blessed me with a huge grin (I think she KNEW things). I managed to stay awake due to the lively "amens!" and "praise Gods!" I was also somewhat fascinated with the strange babbling that would erupt spontaneously around me.

Towards the end, the man preaching announced that "We have God's healer in our midst, tonight!" He then invited anyone needing healing to come forward.

Now, I have always been chronically shy and reserved -- but Mr. Hiram Walker had cured me of that, at least temporarily. I glanced over at the little old lady and she gave me another big grin. Then I got up out of the pew and worked my way to the front where "God's healer" awaited.

When it came my turn, God's healer (a woman) asked me what I needed healing of. I was at a loss for a moment -- I had not thought about that. Suddenly, I thought of something! A bullet had caused my left leg to be a little shorter than the right -- so I told her about it. I told her it caused me to walk in circles and was really bothersome. I'm sure she smelled the alchol on my breath, but she just smiled and asked me my name. I told her and she instructed me to sit down on the front pew.

"Do you have faith that God can heal you?" she asked.

I nodded my head and replied, "Yep".

"Do you have faith that He will heal you if you ask Him to?"

I shook my head and replied, "Nope", quite honestly.

She nodded and said, "That's all right -- because I do. And He is going to heal you tonight."

That was not the response I was expecting and for some reason, I suddenly felt nervous.

"Hold your legs out straight," she commanded.

I stuck them out. Kneeling down, she grasped both heels of my feet in her hands.

"It's the left one, isn't it?" she asked.

I nodded. (It really wasn't that much shorter, just about a half inch, the doctors said.) God's healing woman than closed her eyes and started praying -- then started babbling. I didn't know what to do, so I closed my eyes, too. My left leg begin to feel kinda warm and tingly, but I kept my eyes closed until she finished her prayer.

"Arise, my brother!" she said as she stood up and reached for my hand. "God has healed you! Give him the praise!"

She stared into my (what must have been) bloodshot eyes for a moment, then turned away. I stumbled my way back to my pew and sat down next to the little old lady. She grinned again, this time nodding her head.

I sat there a little muddled until people started filing out and then I got up and followed. I climbed back into my old Ford pickup and started it up. On the way out of the house-church driveway, I looked over and saw God's healing woman staring at me. I stared back until I ran over the curb and fell into the street.

When I got home that night I measured both my legs. They appeared to be the same length. But how could I ever be sure? They were so close to begin with. The whole episode freaked me out, and I'm still not sure what to make of it to this day.