Something about her front porch took me across the ocean to an African slum. Just like that, I was in Sierra Leone again, walking through Kroo Bay, looking into people’s tin and tarp patched homes, stopping to pray with a few.
As Kyle and I walked by this Atlanta home, I was struck by the random collection of items I saw around her porch – an old stroller, a couch whose insides were spilling out, a broken mirror. It drew me in.
We made it two steps past her house when we heard a loud, “Hey! … HEY! … HEY!!” We turned around to find a beautiful older woman coming off of her porch walking toward us. As we said “hello” and gave her hugs, she told us she had just gotten out of the hospital, and showed us her arm that was bruised from the elbow down.
The 61 year old woman explained to us that her arm was broken in a fight. And although it was 2:30 in the afternoon, she confessed that she was drunk. “That’s how I make the pain go away,” she added.
We told her we knew Someone who could make her pain go away. She seemed familiar with this Healer that we spoke of, and eagerly took our hands and held them tightly as we prayed healing over her.
I gently placed my hand on her bruised arm as I prayed. She later told us that as soon as I placed my hand on her arm, she felt the pain move down her arm and out of her body completely.
Jesus took her pain away. “By His wounds, we are healed.”
About 30 minutes later, we were walking back by her house, and we saw her on her porch, using both of her arms to shake out a blanket. We yelled out her name from across the street, and she blew us kisses as we passed by.