Miracles if you believe

Ade

Heres a little something i was wondering about and would like your opinions,

Miracles, can they occur , for instance you have cancer and pray to God and the cancer is gone etc.

I dont believe any man can heal you ( faith healers ), for i believe only God or Jesus can heal you through your faith.

or do you believe its ALL hocus pocus

Do you have any experiences of it that you KNOW are genuine ??

All the best
Ade

dobbie

My son was called a little miracle because he was not expected to pull through when he was born and again at 1 yrs old, the witnesses said it was the power of prayer but personally i just think its just comes down to luck of the draw and we were extremely lucky. Some people with faith may miraculously recover and others not. I do think that having a strong determination and will to carry on can make a difference to recovery though.

dido

I don`t believe in them, things are usually coincidences, but some people want to believe that they are miracles.

Warlock

What are you talking about................I AM A MIRACLE.

Warlock

Seeker4

I just read a book about the airplane crash in the Andes a few decades ago, where the survivors kept alive by eating those that died in the crash. The author said how many who survived thought of it as a miracle. This survivor just couldn't accept that, as both his mother and sister died from the crash, while he survived.
Your idea of making god the source of miracles makes him a moster for all those who don't get the miracles.
No, it's all just chance and circumstances, so you need to stack the deck as much in your favor as possible.
S4

headmath

The accident in the Andes was horrific . It shows that Jehoover sure went out of His way to help out

Double Edge

I believe in miracles, but I too understand why those who haven't experience one have a difficult time believing that they exists.

Here's one that was printed in The Palm Beach Post:

Under the ArchNatalie Garibian Peters
from The Palm Beach Post

I was studying in Paris, reveling in college classes, weekend train trips and my own youthful Renaissance. My family-oriented father had asked me to look up relatives who might live somewhere about. But I didn't. I wanted to feel sophisticated and free, cutting family ties and abandoning the trappings of my American upbringing. Summer passed. The days grew longer, cooler, darker. And even in the City of Light, I was beginning to miss my family. It was my first time away from home and I was feeling lonely and disconnected, longing for the familiar joys of Christmas. I wondered, was I turning the pages of my life too quickly?

So on this one particular cold and dreary day in 1996, I found myself walking to the Armenian Church, a modest stone edifice on the opulent boulevard rue Jean-Goujon.

I took a seat out of the way and under one of the beautiful stone archways. As the Der Hayr (priest) spoke and the service progressed, I saw an old woman, hunched over, walking up and down the aisle looking for a seat.

Given the length of an Armenian church service, I didn't exactly want to give up my place, but I was 20 and she was 70. So when she came by, I spoke in Armenian and offered her my seat. She took it without speaking and I stepped to the side under the arch.

From time to time I saw her looking at me. I found myself staring back. There was something soft and gentle in her dark eyes, deep and mindful. I watched her cross herself, sing, and cross herself again. I envied the comfort and security she seemed to feel in singing and lifting her hands to God.

As the service drew toward a close, she quietly spoke to me. "You are not from here, are you?" she whispered.

"How did you know?" I asked.

"Because you speak to me in Armenian. The young people here speak French. Where are you from?"

"America. Florida," I said rolling the "r" to make it sound more Armenian.

Keeping her eyes on the service, she said: "I have family in Florida. Three brothers. Sarkis, Dikran and..."

"Ara," I said. A lump rose in my throat. "Ara is my father."

Her strong, weathered countenance crumbled in tears. She raised her hands again. "Asdoodzo Kordzeh (God's work). I have been looking for your father for 30 years," she cried. "I knew you were someone special. I knew it in your face."

She was my "auntie," a relative of my paternal grandfather's widely dispersed family who had been part of the Armenian diaspora across Iraq, Syria, America. She herself lived in Syria, and was only in Paris temporarily. But she happened to be there under that arch at the very same moment I was. Overarching oceans and generations, the two of us connected.

I thought I was in France to discover who I was, to collect stories for the future. Perhaps I didn't know exactly what I was looking for, but then I didn't need to -- because an angel from the past, Arev Kasparian, found me and reunited our family.

Carmel

Five years ago when I moved to Oregon, a lady in the community had been 99% blind for three years. She had gone to the best of doctors to find out why she woke up on the middle of the night and had lost all sight. About a month after we arrived there was a telephone call from a mutual friend who was absolutely giddy. Seems the blind lady decided since science couldn't help her, perhaps praying for help would be her last resort. Kind of like the vision quest of several American plains Indians, she fasted for three days, only sipping water, then booked herself into a local hotel and forced herself to stay awake repeating a particular prayer, which promised in her faith would invoke divine assistance. By mid morning she began to see streaks of light. By noon, she could make out figures in her room and by midnight that day she was able to see well enough to walk out of the room after dialing the phone for a cab to take her home. I've known her these past five years and many community members who knew her and it's pretty much a concensus that it is a "miracle". The power of the mind enfused by faith is a mystery that manifests itself in many ways, some positive.

carmel

Double Edge

Amazing story.....thanks.

The power of the mind enfused by faith is a mystery that manifests itself in many ways, some positive.

well said.

Double Edge

bttt (just for the heck of it)

Miracles if you believe

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