Way back in Cambodia the Lord spoke clearly to me about how to handle Mom’s cancer and what my role in her life should be at this time. I was taught the power and importance of prayer.
Before coming on the race I had never been exposed to prayers for healing; except for one far removed incident I remember from childhood in which my Uncle prayed over my scraped knee. I distinctly remember him placing me in a chair and he laid his hands on me and prayed for Jesus to heal my wound. I also distinctly remember learning that this was “weird”. I don’t know that it was ever verbalized, but I definitely had the impression that it was strange and not something we would ever regularly practice.
I don’t remember ever again being exposed to healings. We did not practice this kind of ministry in my Methodist church and I never had contact with any other people who practiced this kind of praying. When I was at training last April before the Race I was completely freaked out by the things going on around me. People were speaking in tongues, people were being slain in the spirit, and all kinds of “spirit stuff” was going on. I was completely wigged out to be honest, and definitely didn’t share these experiences with anyone at home. There was already enough hesitancy in my Race participation that I feared this would really push everyone over the edge, myself included.
I just figured if I didn’t talk about it or acknowledge it then I could just pretend it wasn’t happening. Oh, what a naive little girl I was.
Fast forward a few months and I find myself praying healing for many people. People I run into on the street, kids at church touched by HIV, paralyzed women, men afflicted with AIDS, and the list continues. 
Some days I had to laugh because it seemed like my full time job and I wasn’t even sure I knew what I was doing. I followed the example of my teammates and read up on how Jesus did it and off I went. I half-expected it to be like Jesus; he just had to walk by and say, “Pick up your mat and walk” and off they went. But I also half-expected nothing to happen. My logical brain reasoned that I had never experienced a healing like that, so who’s to say it really occurred?
Our team spent time in Swaziland last summer and I was able to sort-of witness a genuine healing when our paralyzed friend, Helma, was up and walking. Read that blog here. Again, I was not able to witness the transformation with my own eyes, but I desperately wanted to believe and had the testimony of teammates to back it up.
Since then I have been in so many situations for healing and continually I was told to “just believe”. Jesus himself tried to convince me as well:
Ok, so I knew I had to believe. But how do you go about “just believing”? Jesus failed to leave me directions on that part. I continued on and ran into situation after situation in which I could practice believing. I was absolutely slammed in Cambodia and the Lord was very clear in His direction to pray healing for my mom. Of course, I never really told her that. I said we were praying and fasting, but I always managed to leave out the part where we were claiming and believing she was healed. I pressed onward.
While our team spent time in the Philippines we had the chance to listen to Heidi Baker speak. She is an amazing woman of God known to have raised many from the dead and heal thousands of people. I encourage you to check out her ministry site. Anyway, I sat at the conference just waiting to see paralyzed people just jump up and walk out of their wheelchairs. People had been lined up all day waiting to be healed. She handled the situation in a way that was completely in line with the Spirit of God in her; but did not satisfy my need to SEE a healing. She called all the children to the stage. The spirit of God descended and she commissioned all the children to go into the crowd and heal people.
WHAT?!?! My poor little brain was in overdrive and all I could think was “who is going to teach them how to pray healing??” “How will they know what to do?” I could almost hear God whispering to me: “Dear Allison, when will you understand?”
Yes, Lord. I WANT to become like a little child and just believe, but it is so very hard to drop all my preconceived notions, all the religion I had learned and just believe.
I sat struggling in the Philippines and the Lord spoke: “pray healing for your mom.” Not just a little, hopeful prayer, but a BIG, believing prayer. “Ok, God” was my meek response. New Year’s day was one turning point of many in my relationship with Mom. She was having a tough physical day on the other side of the world and I was given the open door to pray via cell phone for her healing. To me it was momentous; because that was the first time I truly BELIEVED she would be healed through my prayers. She was not instantly healed with those prayers, but in my Spirit something shifted. I continued to pray healing throughout my month in the Philippines. And I started to see healings. Nothing instantaneous, mind you, but healings.
The Lord continued “pray healing for your mom” and I pressed on. Through a series of “accidents’ we ended up with 48 hours in Los Angeles on our way to Nicaragua. I never said a word to anyone at the time, but I knew that time was ordained for Mom’s healing. I knew I would see her, I knew we would lay hands on her and I knew she would be healed.
We arrived in LA and I admitted to Chad what we were there to do and he, of course, was my biggest cheerleader. 
I wept as I explained the situation to him. How could I possibly explain to my fairly conservative, religious parents the shift that had happened in my Spirit and how the Lord was going to heal that night? Not to mention the fact that this was all new to me…not to mention the fact that I was going to cry all over myself. I will never forget Chad’s response. “Jesus healed with compassion, your tears of compassion are what will heal your mom.”
Matthew 20:34
Evening rolled around and our time of sharing started and I started to sweat. I knew the stories would come to an end and it was my turn to share my heart.
So many times this year I have laid hands on people and prayed healing. I have believed for their healing, but I honestly didn’t have a vested interest. In most cases I would walk away and not ever really know whether they were healed or not. And that was a whole lot safer than what I was walking into. I had to open my mouth and BELIEVE healing for one of the most important people in my life. Talk about kicking it up a notch.
I explained to my teammates and other guests what I believed and what the Lord had placed on my heart. Of course they were in agreement and we began. I bowed my head, placed my hands, closed my eyes and let the Lord take control. I have no idea what was said, I have no idea how long we were there, but I know the Spirit of the Lord was there and we claim her healed. The sweet time of compassion and gentleness from God was unlike anything I have experienced and it is perfectly indescribable.
I believe angels visited us that night because I saw them. I saw her touched by the hand of God. I continue to struggle to put words to it; I cannot accurately describe a spiritual event in a physical setting.
Just know that I BELIEVE.
