Yesterday afternoon I was getting gas in Mill Valley. A young guy pulled up to the pump behind me, got out and looked at the Velcro band I had across my chest.
“Bad back?” he asked.
No, I said, cracked ribs.
“Would you like me to pray for you to be healed in the name of Jesus?”
Sure, I said.
He asked my name, then came up to me, put a hand on my shoulder and said: “Lloyd, may you be healed in the name of Jesus.”
Well I’ll tell you what. I went for a slow shuffling run that night at the beach (the first in 6+ weeks) and no rib twinges at all. The day before I could hardly walk much less run, without pain.
Hallelujah, no shit.
Now Jesus — about my damaged knee…