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By Andrea Johnson

Nearly a year ago my aunt called in tears. Her grandson J.D., my cousin’s oldest son, had been dealing with headaches that doctors had attributed to stress. But then the young husband and father of three (his wife had just given birth to twins) started having difficulty with his cognitive skills. Tests revealed a brain tumor, inoperable due to its location. His prognosis looked grim.

Of course we all prayed. My aunt, a long-time missionary, had people around the world praying; my cousin, Jim, and his family prayed; our whole family prayed. J.D., who lives in Idaho, underwent surgery to relieve the pressure on his brain from fluid buildup. Then through a series of unlikely events (some somewhat miraculous and others due to people’s generosity), J.D. was able to go to the Cancer Treatment Center of America in Tulsa. There he underwent radiation and is now doing very well. We all thank the Lord.

A few weeks ago my aunt called again in tears. Her son, Jim, J.D.’s dad, had been diagnosed with colon cancer. He had experienced symptoms for awhile, but doctors attributed those to a problem in his lower back.

I called Jim on a Sunday and was stunned at how upbeat he was. He told me he wondered himself if he was in denial because he simply was not worried. He had seen his share of miracles, including one that very morning.

Wanting his family to gather together following his diagnosis, he had asked his children to go to church with him. Amazingly each of his children and stepchildren and their families – some people of faith, some fairly anti-God – showed up at church. When the time came for people wanting prayer to go to the front, my cousin went forward to ask for prayer for healing. To his great delight, his entire family went forward with him. He told me he would have been happy to go to heaven right then. He knew God’s Word would have an impact on his family, and he trusted that God would continue that work – with or without him.

We talked about his condition: his stage four cancer had already spread, but he knows God can heal him. If not, he’s OK with that. He trusts God. In fact his last words before he hung up the phone were “So pray for me, but don’t worry about me.” I picture Ron Wilson, featured in this issue, saying the same thing: “Please pray for me, but don’t worry about me.”

About The Author

Andrea Johnson
Managing Editor

In her spare time you will most likely find Andrea Johnson with family or friends, or outdoors hiking. She and her husband, Dennis, are blessed with four children and five grandchildren.