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Post on Prayer

2/12/13 – As she later described it she rushed me to St Anthony’s Hospital in Oklahoma City. By then I was semi-conscience. I remember them putting me on a gurney and shoving me in an elevator, pulling my pants down a nurse on one side and a doctor on the other giving me shots just as fast as they could. I past out.

Later I woke up and had an IV in my arm. The diagnosis was polio encephalitis. I was in isolation for some time.

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Post on Prayer

2/7/13 – I must digress for a moment. Jumping ahead seven years. This is Mary and I’s anniversary, the 49th. How it came about was, yes you guessed it, by prayer. I was in the military at the time and had come home on leave.  Mother suggested that I go on a hayride that was being held in conjunction with a church in Norman, Oklahoma. I, to say the least did not want to go. Out of deference for her I did.

I ended up sitting by a beautiful young girl whose father was an elder in Norman. I immediately fell in love with her. As I was leaving that evening, turning left on Western towards Oklahoma City, I reminded the Lord of His words in Matthew 7:7 and told Him I wanted to marry Mary. He assured me in that moment I would but I had some maturing to do. We shall return to this subject and the prayers.

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Post on Prayer

2/5/13 – The next major event was not of my own doing. In the early 1950’s the United States was engulfed in an epidemic of polio encephalitis.  It was a constant fear among parents. In a community the disease could quickly overwhelm a population of both young and old.

I was ten years old in 1953. I was living  in an abusive foster home. Looking back I can see that I had given up hope and wanted to die. Late one afternoon my ‘caretaker’ called my mother and told her to come and get me I was running a fever of one hundred and six. My mother just laughed at her and told her she did not know how to read a thermometer. She came out and took my temperature. It was one hundred and seven.

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Post on Prayer

2/2/13 – I did and the thought came into my mind  “yes, it would.”  I told her the answer and she told me that she received the same answer. It did heal. The pattern thus was set. If praying together I would give her my answer, and she confirmed it if she received the same answer.

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Post on Prayer

2/1/13 – Upon arrival mother asked me if I wanted to know if I would lose my sight. I told her I wanted to know. We went into the bedroom kneeled down beside the bed and she explained to me what to do. She told me to pray and ask the Lord if my eye would heal.

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Post on Prayer

1/30/13 – The second major event and really the beginning of my own prayer life occurred when I was about seven years old. I was involved in a rock fight with Chris our neighbor. Struck in the right eye, and bleeding mother rushed me to the hospital.  After extensive testing the doctors told her they did not know if the eye could be saved. They sent me home after bandaging it.

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Post on Prayer

1/29/13 – Now I know it is not likely, however I clearly remember times during that first year mother rocking me in her rocking chair and singing softly the hymn, I Come to the Garden Alone.” But perhaps the Lord wanted to make sure I never forgot. I have not.

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Post on Prayer

1/16/13 – One may believe or disbelieve in this type of communion. Entrance into heaven will not be determined by an individual’s belief on this subject.  But after years of study and reflection, I have concluded that those who desire the experience of this type of prayer life should have it.

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Post on Prayer

01-13-2013 – This disdain for speaking to others about prayer reached a peak in graduate school.  I was sitting in a class one Wednesday evening, and the topic of prayer came up. One lone individual began to verbalize his experiences with prayer.  It was what I had been taught and practiced all my life. Everyone in the class started criticizing and demeaning the person. I sat in silence. My silence reflected my fear of what people thought. Later, I was ashamed of my silence. I felt I had been disloyal to God. 

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1/10/13 – This incident introduced doubt into my prayer life. I struggled for several years wondering if prayer was a two-way conversation. Then I discovered a little devotional book called Prayers of a Modern Mystic. As I began to read, I was amazed at the author’s descriptions of his prayer life.  It was just as my mother had taught me. Thereafter, I believed and practiced what I had been taught. However, I did refuse to talk with other Christians about prayer. 

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