“Everything will work out for the best.”

We’ve all heard this phrase before. It comforts us when things that don’t make sense happen in our lives, or we encounter difficult situations we don’t completely understand.

Then, in the Bible, we are told that “in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).

Is that really true? I believe it is, and in fact, God has done such a thing in my life, working through multiple events, so that everything worked out beautifully in the end.

I am the only believer in my family.

When I was 15, I accepted Christ after having read a book that drew my interest in a God who loves me, who is waiting for me and to whom I can go when I need help.

My growth was slow at the start, as my mother’s initial disapproval caused me to attend church services infrequently, but I continued in my faith, reading the Bible daily and praying every night.

It was only four years later, after having sensed that my mother no longer disapproved, that I started going to church regularly.

What I didn’t know was that God would work a miracle in the life of my grandmother, and that He had something special in store for me.

Even though I knew that my church organised camps every year, in my irregularity, it was never something I thought of going for.

But when I turned 20, my chance came. It was my last year in the youth ministry and my last chance to attend church camp before I moved to the campus ministry.

I decided to ask my mother for permission, but she did not like the idea because she did not trust the pastors. I did not give up, however, and eventually, an idea cropped up – perhaps I could bring my grandmother along! This way, maybe my mother would approve.

I decided to ask the church if such an allowance could be made, since it was a youth camp and all the campers were supposed to be in their late teens. The church’s approval came swiftly, and I was set to go.

Going for the camp, I had no expectations. It’s not that I expected nothing of God. I simply went with an open mind, hoping for the best.

What I didn’t know was that God would work a miracle in the life of my grandmother, and that He had something special in store for me. What He did far exceeded anything I could have imagined.

HURTING LEGS AND HEALING HANDS

My grandmother’s legs had started hurting badly before the camp. They hurt so bad that she did not even know if she could even proceed with the plan.

Fortunately, her legs became alright the day before, so she was able to follow me as scheduled.

During the entire duration of the camp, her legs hurt her, and it made walking difficult.

While she had a limited comprehension of English, she continued to sit with me throughout the long sermons, although this only made her legs worse.

On the second day, she told me upon my return to the hotel room that some of the girls had asked if they could pray for her. She refused because of her fear that they wanted to convert her.

I assured her promptly that they only wanted to bless her, and I prayed for her, that if they were to ask her again, she would not refuse.

This prayer was answered the next day, on the last day of camp. The sisters asked my grandmother if they could pray for her, and this time she agreed.

They prayed for her left leg, after she had placed her hand on her leg to indicate that it hurt. In actual fact, both her legs hurt, but it was this tiny oversight that would make the healing testimony even more powerful.

At the end of the prayer, my grandmother thanked Jesus on her own accord.

The next morning, my grandmother called me over the phone to tell me that Jesus had answered the prayer. Her leg no longer hurt!

As the events of the day continued, I soon forgot about the prayer for my grandmother’s leg.

It was the next morning after we had returned to Singapore that my grandmother called me over the phone to tell me that Jesus had answered the prayer. Her leg no longer hurt!

Interestingly, the leg that was not prayed for continued to hurt, but rather than upset her, it convinced her that it was Jesus who had healed her, rather than a random coincidence. The difference in her legs showed her the importance of prayer.

As I was attending the camp, I saw how fervent my peers were when they prayed. They seemed to be encountering God, while I did not have a particularly strong encounter.

I began to wonder if God knew me. I know Him and believe in Him, but does He know me? Doubt had begun to creep into my heart.

So when God answered the prayer for my grandmother’s leg, it was astounding, and I knew with certainty it was He who healed her.

However, while I now knew that God knew my grandmother, I couldn’t help wondering if God knew me. To be sure, He had responded to my prayers before, but in my moment of doubt, I overlooked those occasions.

The story of my grandmother’s healing was shared around my family both by my grandmother and myself. While nobody believed us, this did not turn out a bad thing, because it led to something else.

Coupled with my desire to find out if God really knows me, and the thought that a double healing miracle could perhaps move the hearts of my family members, I decided to pray for healing in an issue that had been with me for eight years.

PILLS, PRAYER AND POWER

My menstruations stopped when I was 12, barely a year after it had started.

For eight years, it came naturally only once when I was 15, and the rest of the time I was free of the need to go through periods, except when the doctor occasionally prescribed birth control pills as a way to induce the period.

I visited many doctors through the years, but none of them was able to provide a solution, other than to wait.

Due to the convenience of not having my period, I did not pray fervently for its return, but after the incident with my grandmother, I determined to pray for it once and for all.

One day during service, after having made this commitment in my mind, the pastor called for healing requests. I made my way to the altar and prayed earnestly. A sister prayed for me as well.

Time passed after that, and I had an appointment with the doctor again. I was prescribed birth control pills as usual, but I remembered my prayer.

If I used the pills, I wouldn’t know if God had answered my prayer. So while I collected the pills, I decided not to use them for the time being.

Three weeks later, standing in service, it came to my mind that much time had already passed since my prayer for healing. I closed my eyes, and prayed.

At the conclusion of my prayer, after having said “Amen”, I immediately felt something, but I soon forgot it as the service continued.

It was only when I returned home that evening that I discovered God had healed me, and the joy I felt was immense. It was the biggest prayer I felt that God had ever answered for me.

I was overwhelmed just knowing that I am known and loved by Him.

Just as God had healed my grandmother once and for all, so He healed me.

In all that happened, I learnt two things. First, that God can work through all things to produce something marvelous.

It might not seem particularly meaningful that my menstruations were withheld for eight years, or that my grandmother’s leg hurt for days, but God used both incidents, turning them around, to bless us.

Second, I saw how faith was crucial if we wanted our prayers to be answered. Both my grandmother and I displayed faith after we had prayed, trusting in God for the healing we had yet to see.

While the double healing miracle did not work its effect in the hearts of my family as I had hoped, it was a blessing to my grandmother and me.

Perhaps that, for now, is enough.