Prayer Answered Miraculously
The death of a parent is always devastating, but my mother’s passing resulted in one of the greatest miracles in my life.
To understand the complexity of this miracle, I must begin several years earlier.
Life took a drastic turn for me the day I fully understood the true meaning of salvation. As a new, born-again Christian, I became characteristically excited, on fire with the desire to tell everyone about my newfound faith and assurance of eternal life.
Not being a gifted evangelist, I proceeded to offend most of my friends with unsolicited exuberance. I did, however, perform one sensible act by imploring God, through prayer, to allow my entire family to hear the Gospel and to accept His free gift of salvation. I subsequently forgot about this prayer until years later.
I agonized over a letter to my mother and dad. Trying not to appear foolish, I attempted to tell them how they too could be assured of going to heaven.
I included a simple prayer asking the Lord to come into their lives. There was little immediate response, but Mom later said she repeated this prayer every day.
Years later, the phone rang. It was my dad.
“Your mother died this morning,” he sobbed. I was shattered.
We held the funeral in Butte, Mont., and then the burial in Helena, where I had arranged for a local minister to conduct the graveside service. Upon leaving the funeral home, I realized I had no Bible, so I stopped at the folks’ house to get one. Amazingly, my salvation letter was tucked neatly into Mom’s Bible.
It was a rainy afternoon in Helena, but the summer skies cleared enough for the sun to shine through. I remember hearing birds singing at the rain-soaked cemetery. All of my family - from Montana to Texas, California to Maryland - were waiting at the gravesite for the minister to arrive. Half an hour passed. He was nowhere in sight. Tears gave way to a restless murmur.
Mom’s brother, Jack, turned to me and said, “Don, why don’t we just do this just like Uncle Jesse would have a hundred years ago on York (Montana) Hill?”
I agreed, and we proceeded. Jack read from his Book of Common Prayer, then turned to me and suggested I read the letter I had written to Mom.
Through teary eyes, I read the words, including the sinner’s prayer Mom prayed each day. Only later did I realize God had answered my prayer: The entire family had heard the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It had to be a miracle!
Gravel crunching beneath tires announced the minister’s arrival as the crowd slowly walked from the gravesite.
“I am so sorry I’m late,” he lamented, “but my watch stopped.”
Part of the miracle? I don’t know, but God does. This entire sequence of unlikely events allowed me to tell my entire family of God’s plan for our salvation.
Ultimately it is up to each to respond. I can only hope they do.