Read Online The Boy Who Came Back from Heaven: A Remarkable Account of Miracles, Angels, and Life Beyond This World by Kevin Malarkey; Alex Malarkey - Free Book Online
Authors: Kevin Malarkey; Alex Malarkey
Ads: Link
the same for our Alex.
A question had been forming in my mind, and it occurred to me that Hillbilly might be just the person to answer it. But it was the kind of question I wanted to phrase very carefully.
“Hillbilly, can I ask you something?” I offered tentatively. “I’m a little reluctant to say it, because I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
“Don’t worry ’bout that!” said Hillbilly in his trademark drawl. “What’s on your mind, Kevin?”
“Well, you see, since Alex was very little, I’ve had this strong feeling that someday he might be a pastor. You know, I’ve watched him closely, and I’ve known he was spiritually sensitive and special in so many ways. And I just began believing that someday he would feel a call to the ministry.”
My eyes moved down to take in the image of my little boy who had engendered such lofty ideas, which now seemed refuted by all the machines, tubes, and IVs running chaotically in every direction. “Then, well, since the accident, I’ve started to wonder if it could be the devil behind this whole thing—I mean, causing the accident. Because if I were the devil and I spotted this child who had great potential to serve God, I’d want to cut him off at the pass, right?”
Hillbilly began to nod and smile as if he knew exactly what I was saying.
“Now don’t get me wrong,” I added quickly. “I’m not passing off responsibility for what I did. It was me behind the wheel, not the devil. I’ve never been the kind to say ‘the devil made me do it’ whenever I spill a glass of milk, and I’m not trying to pass off the blame on some invisible—”
Hillbilly threw his head back and burst out laughing. His big hand came down hard on my shoulder, smack!
“Bless your heart, man. I’m right there with ya. What you want to know is—did the devil want to kill your son? And I say, ‘Ya think ?’”
Then he waved a hand across the room, where people were praying. He continued, “Yes sir , I believe the devil tried to kill your son—but you know what? As usual, all he accomplished was to stir up a hornet’s nest!”
I stopped, looked, and listened to the hushed murmur of praying voices that filled the room like soft music. Hillbilly was exactly right. The only thing the devil had accomplished was to mobilize the saints to turn to God. How quickly they had organized to spread the love of Christ by meeting our needs and serving as a major witness to everyone who came in the doors of Children’s. I suddenly felt buoyed by an incredible power.
“The Spirit who lives in you,” wrote the apostle John, “is greater than the spirit who lives in the world” (1 John 4:4). Since I had watched the helicopter bear my son away, I had felt totally weak and helpless. Now I was realizing, in a very practical way, that there are other ways to see things. You can choose to view life as an impersonal machine that provides no user’s manual, or you can see it as a spiritual battle in progress, in which a prayer army can make a real difference.
Ours was already on the front line, and I was beginning to gain courage from their presence.
As we continued to discuss these things, someone near me suggested that we leave Alex’s room and adjourn to an empty one across the hall. I figured we were doing this out of consideration for the people trying to pray. But as soon as we got there, Hillbilly pushed me down into a chair. Then he gathered everyone in a circle around me. This was for me! It was the last thing I was expecting, and I felt a little awkward. But all I could do was go with the flow. Everyone present laid hands on me while Hillbilly knelt at my feet. He asked me to fully extend my legs. Then he held my feet in the air and began praying.
“Lord God,” he said, “we need Your wisdom right now so that we might understand how to pray and what to ask for. Use us as vessels for Your healing power.” The others whispered their prayerful affirmation. “We
A question had been forming in my mind, and it occurred to me that Hillbilly might be just the person to answer it. But it was the kind of question I wanted to phrase very carefully.
“Hillbilly, can I ask you something?” I offered tentatively. “I’m a little reluctant to say it, because I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
“Don’t worry ’bout that!” said Hillbilly in his trademark drawl. “What’s on your mind, Kevin?”
“Well, you see, since Alex was very little, I’ve had this strong feeling that someday he might be a pastor. You know, I’ve watched him closely, and I’ve known he was spiritually sensitive and special in so many ways. And I just began believing that someday he would feel a call to the ministry.”
My eyes moved down to take in the image of my little boy who had engendered such lofty ideas, which now seemed refuted by all the machines, tubes, and IVs running chaotically in every direction. “Then, well, since the accident, I’ve started to wonder if it could be the devil behind this whole thing—I mean, causing the accident. Because if I were the devil and I spotted this child who had great potential to serve God, I’d want to cut him off at the pass, right?”
Hillbilly began to nod and smile as if he knew exactly what I was saying.
“Now don’t get me wrong,” I added quickly. “I’m not passing off responsibility for what I did. It was me behind the wheel, not the devil. I’ve never been the kind to say ‘the devil made me do it’ whenever I spill a glass of milk, and I’m not trying to pass off the blame on some invisible—”
Hillbilly threw his head back and burst out laughing. His big hand came down hard on my shoulder, smack!
“Bless your heart, man. I’m right there with ya. What you want to know is—did the devil want to kill your son? And I say, ‘Ya think ?’”
Then he waved a hand across the room, where people were praying. He continued, “Yes sir , I believe the devil tried to kill your son—but you know what? As usual, all he accomplished was to stir up a hornet’s nest!”
I stopped, looked, and listened to the hushed murmur of praying voices that filled the room like soft music. Hillbilly was exactly right. The only thing the devil had accomplished was to mobilize the saints to turn to God. How quickly they had organized to spread the love of Christ by meeting our needs and serving as a major witness to everyone who came in the doors of Children’s. I suddenly felt buoyed by an incredible power.
“The Spirit who lives in you,” wrote the apostle John, “is greater than the spirit who lives in the world” (1 John 4:4). Since I had watched the helicopter bear my son away, I had felt totally weak and helpless. Now I was realizing, in a very practical way, that there are other ways to see things. You can choose to view life as an impersonal machine that provides no user’s manual, or you can see it as a spiritual battle in progress, in which a prayer army can make a real difference.
Ours was already on the front line, and I was beginning to gain courage from their presence.
As we continued to discuss these things, someone near me suggested that we leave Alex’s room and adjourn to an empty one across the hall. I figured we were doing this out of consideration for the people trying to pray. But as soon as we got there, Hillbilly pushed me down into a chair. Then he gathered everyone in a circle around me. This was for me! It was the last thing I was expecting, and I felt a little awkward. But all I could do was go with the flow. Everyone present laid hands on me while Hillbilly knelt at my feet. He asked me to fully extend my legs. Then he held my feet in the air and began praying.
“Lord God,” he said, “we need Your wisdom right now so that we might understand how to pray and what to ask for. Use us as vessels for Your healing power.” The others whispered their prayerful affirmation. “We
Similar Books
