“You say that your Jesus heals – prove it!”

Those were the words of a crippled man who walked to the platform with his family and interrupted my message. At the invitation of some Roman Catholic priests I was preaching in a small village called Spanish in northern Ontario. It was 1975.

Almost everyone in the audience was from a tribe of North American Indians who lived in that area. They were big people whose creased, deep-lined faces seemed chiseled in stone. “What are these folks thinking?” I wondered as I began to minister. Their countenance showed absolutely no emotion – no nods or smiles of agreement on their stoic faces. They just stared at me.

My message was on God’s power to save, heal, and fill with His spirit. About half way through my sermon, and to my surprise, I saw a young Indian man and his family slowly walking up the aisle toward the platform. The husband had a severe limp. I thought “Lord, this is wonderful. They are coming to give their lives to you”.

But they didn’t even hesitate at the altar. Nobody stopped them as they walked up the steps of the platform and finally stood right in front of me, staring at me. Dumbfounded, I stopped preaching and said, “Can I help you?”

The man looked at me sternly and said, “You have been telling us that Jesus is alive today. I am twenty-eight years old and I’m crippled. My wife has cancer. Look! My little girl’s skin is bleeding because of a severe case of eczema. No one has been able to help her. You say that your Jesus heals – prove it!”

Now the congregation was staring at me with even more intensity. I glanced at the priests and they were praying. One of them looked like an Old Testament prophet, with a beard so long it almost touched the floor. I called them over to me and said, “Gentlemen, let’s kneel down and call upon the Lord”.

And then I prayed, “Lord Jesus, this man tells me to prove what I am preaching. But, Lord, I’m not preaching my gospel. I’m preaching your gospel. You prove it!”

Although I prayed with boldness, I wasn’t sure what to do next. So, I waited. It seemed as thought time stood still at that moment. Not a sound could be heard. I didn’t know what was happening, but I wasn’t about to open my eyes. I just knelt there, eyes closed, and kept praying.

Suddenly there was a loud noise and another. It startled me and I opened my eyes to see what had happened. As I looked around I saw the man, his wife, and daughter all lying on the floor. The Spirit of God had descended with such power that the man and his entire family fell backward to the floor. By this time everyone in the auditorium was looking at me, wondering what had happened. Almost suspended in time, we all waited to see what would happen next.

Finally, the family members began to get up. As the father looked at his daughter, he began to shout and cry all at the same time. As he examined her arms, he shouted, “They’re not bleeding anymore! It’s a miracle!”

As I looked at her little arms, I was astonished to find that not only had the bleeding stopped; it looked like she had new skin on her arms. Almost at the same time, her father began to run around the building, saying, “I’m healed! I’m healed.” His crippled leg was restored. As his wife began to examine herself, she also found that God had touched her too.

The presence of the Holy Spirit so changed that meeting that those expressionless Indians suddenly lifted their hands and began to praise and worship the Lord. Many asked Christ to be their Savior that night.

And I realized that when God’s Spirit is at work there is nothing we need to demonstrate or prove. He uses us in service, but it is His power, His presence and His proclamation that brings life.