Never Too Late by Kathryn Kuhlman

Author:Kathryn Kuhlman [Kuhlman, Kathryn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Religion, Pentecostal & Charismatic, Fiction/General, Christianity
ISBN: 9780882707204
Google: 3cUXVloAe-4C
Amazon: 0882707205
Barnesnoble: 0882707205
Goodreads: 4189615
Publisher: Bridge-Logos
Published: 1994-12-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Life Begins at Fifty-seven

The next morning, for the first time in ten years, I jumped out of bed and pulled open the window blind so the summer sun could come streaming into the bedroom. I headed for the kitchen to fix Ang some coffee while he dressed.

“Hey,” I heard him shouting from the bedroom. “Come look at this.”

Ang was standing in front of the mirror, rotating his arm and my shoulder. “You know how sore my shoulder’s been from bursitis—even had to get a shot last week because the pain was so bad? Now look, I can put my shirt on without any pain. I’m healed, too!”

Half an hour after Ang left for work, Rosemary came rushing through the door. She had brought a friend—in case she needed help. I was in the kitchen drinking coffee.

“Praise the Lord!” I grinned.

She stood in the doorway with her mouth open. “Mother! Mother! What’s happened to you?” she cried in disbelief.

She was like that for the next two hours as I told her everything. All she could do was weep and shake her head.

After she left, one of our neighbors phoned. “I’d like to speak to Marion, please.”

“Honey, this is Marion,” I laughed.

“Hey, who are you kidding? This isn’t Marion.”

“It sure is. I’ve been healed. I can talk now.”

“You’ve what? I’ll be right over.”

In less than two minutes, she came bursting through the front door. She grabbed me around the neck. “Oh, thank God, it’s true. You’re healed!”

The passwords to the Burgios’ coffee klatch that day were TEARS OF JOY—everyone that came wept unashamedly in the presence of the miracle our Lord had wrought.

Monday morning I went to Doctor’s Hospital for my regular X-ray appointment. The technician who had taken my X-rays for the last two years looked at me strangely.

“You must be Marion Burgio’s twin sister,” she said. “I’m Betty.”

I laughed. “No, Betty, I’m not Marion’s twin. I’m Marion.”

She grabbed me and pulled me into a side room. “What happened to you? Last week you were dying. Now look at you!”

“Do you believe in miracles?” I asked.

She shrugged her shoulders questioningly, but after I told her about my healing, she gasped, “I have to believe. Twelve days ago I had to put the straw in your mouth when I gave you the milkshake for the X-ray. Now you’re perfect!”

Just as that moment the door swung open and the doctor walked in. He started at me but said nothing—undressed and leaned against the slanted X-ray table. The doctor stood to one side, watching.

“Don’t you have any pain?” he asked.

“No,” I said evenly.

“Haven’t you had pain?”

“Oh, yes, constantly. But not anymore.”

“When did the pain go away?”

“Last Tuesday night.”

He asked no more questions, just kept turning me and snapping X-ray pictures. Through the thick glass window I could see Betty’s face laughing and giggling.

Finally, Betty could take no more. She called out from behind the lead shield. “You remember Mrs. Burgio, don’t you, doctor? She was here twelve days ago with multiple sclerosis.”

The doctor’s expression never changed.

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