A woman in a red wheelchair was being pushed by her son on 42nd Street towards Times Square in New York City.  She was accompanied by her husband walking next to her on her left and her daughter in law on her right.

I caught up to them and offered the son for me to pray for his mom.  He just looked at me in a blank stare.  So I asked him a second time.  Still, just a blank stare.  Maybe he doesn’t speak English, I thought?  So I asked him if he spoke English.  

“No. Turkish.” he said with a thick accent.  I switched to trying to communicate with my hands and fingers pointing to me “I pray…” now folding my hands in prayer “to God…” pointing upwards to the sky “for her?” pointing to his mom.  “Up to her.” he responded.

I got in front of the mom and communicated the same way to which she shook her head and said “Yes!”  Somehow the woman was able to explain to me that she could not walk.  I asked if I could put my hands on her legs and she agreed.  I laid my hands on her legs right above her knees and commanded strength to return to her legs.  Suddenly she pulled up her pant leg and showed me that her legs and ankles were severely swollen about one and a half times normal.

When I laid my hand on her ankle and commanded the swelling to go down in Jesus name, she tried desperately to communicate something to me.  But it was all in Turkish and she sounded so anxious, I thought she was getting upset that maybe she was not feeling anything.  I asked the daughter in law what was she saying.  Struggling for words, she tried her best to explain to me in broken English: “She say… she want to… go?  She want to …walk?”

I immediately turned to the mom and asked her “You want to walk?”  She shook her head up and down vigorously “Yes!  Walk!”  I put out both my hands in front of her and said “Come!”  She grabbed my hands and I pulled her out of the wheelchair and immediately strength returned to her legs and she started walking.  I walked with her holding on to me for about five steps and then I let her go and she walked entirely on her own strength.  Praise God!

She was profusely thanking me but I told her son to tell her that it was Jesus who had healed her and to thank Him.  He turned to her and told her something in Turkish that started with what sounded like “Jesu…”  She then started to thank Jesus with her hands raised high up in the air.  I watched them walk off with an empty wheelchair between them.

When I related the story to my son in law who was in Times Square already where I was supposed to meet up with him, he asked me “Was that a red wheelchair by any chance?”  “Yes!” I said “Why?”  He said: “Well, I thought it was kind of strange when I saw four people walking over Times Square with an empty red wheelchair in between them!”

Thank you, Jesus!

Franciscus M. Dartee
Grow in Faith | Walk in Power

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