This is an article in an e-mail that I received today. Amber Nesbitt is one of the reasons I began my blog last January. I was fasting for 40 days and in large part for her recovery, among other things.

I visited her several times a week, was able to see her when she was in her coma and visit with her after she emerged. I had the distinct privilege of being in the waiting room with her parents and many others when spontaneous praise would softly begin, coupled with weeping and prayer. It was an amazing time for me to see the Body of Christ, from many areas, come together in unity, with no barriers, no denominations, and no discussion about differences in doctrine. We came together, not with fear, but with hope. As Amber's father said to me, he did not want anyone laying hands on her or communicating with her, even in her coma, who were not believing God in faith for her complete recovery. It is that common faith in the healing power of Jesus Christ that brought us together in unity. The prayer of the righteous man (and woman) surely DOES availeth much and where two or three are gathered in His name there He is in the midst, amen?

As you will read in the attached article, Amber was given no hope of recovery. None at all. The parents of this 23 year old girl were told to make plans for a life of living in an adult nursing home. The prognosis of her coming out from the coma was slim to none but one of the top neurologists on the East Coast who examined her said that even if she did emerge that her brain stem was so damaged that she would never be able to do anything. Anything. Think Terry Schiavo and take it down several notches.

Some of my thoughts on that time period are on the early pages of my blog.

I haven't seen Amber recently but have heard from her several times by e-mail. She stopped in the store my husband works at a few days ago and he came home for lunch with a look of awe on his face. "I've seen a miracle" he said.

Amber will be on the 700 Club on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day to tell her story. I feel even sadder now that one of my blogstream pastors died. Zhyg, of Zhyghar's Musings, was a faithful prayer partner for me and I was blessed to know him. I know that he is in the "cloud of witnesses" though so I do believe he is seeing her after all.

I hope you will have an opportunity to see this on television, but if not, at least know now, and never deny it henceforth, that Jesus Christ is the ONLY Great Physician, and the only TRUE miracle worker, and His death and resurrection were not only for our salvation but to bring life and health to our bodies. It is the devil who comes to kill, steal and destroy. Jesus came that we might have life and that more abundantly. selah

As most of you know, Amber Nesbitt, Jennifer's older sister, was in a near fatal car accident last December 15th. Given a "0% chance" of recovery by the doctors, today Amber is back driving a car and working a new job. Her miraculous story has captured the attention of many including CBN's The 700 Club out of Virginia Beach, VA.

Two weeks ago Jennifer and I traveled to the Nesbitt home and had the honor of meeting the film crew and being apart of the taping of her story. The interview airs world-wide on Christmas Day, Monday, December 25th at 9:00am, 11:00pm, and 2:00am December 26th.

We eagerly await the testimonies of those who will be touched, ministered to, and even healed through Amber's life and the Nesbitt family. What the enemy intended for evil, God is surely using for great good! and working a new job. Her miraculous story has captured the attention of many including CBN's The 700 Club out of Virginia Beach, VA.


Amber On The 700 Club


"Leave him alone for a while", the Bishop said to Monica, "only pray God for him; he will of himself, by reading, discover what that error is, and how great it's impiety. Go thy way, and God bless thee, for it is not possible that the son of these tears should perish" The Bishop to Monica "God drew my soul out of the profound darkness because of my mother who wept on my behalf more than most mothers weep when their children die. Thou heardest her, O Lord. Thou heardest her, and despisedest not her tears, when pouring down, they watered the earth under her eyes in every place where she prayed; yea, Thou heardest her." Augustine refering to his mother Monica "God is not so much concerned with the greatness of one's work as the love with which it is done" Teresa of Avila

Christmas was fun this year but, and I hope I don't sound old and crotchety when I say this, I wouldn't have bothered with a tree if it weren't for the kids sake. Don't get me wrong, I love an old fashioned, pine-smelling tree with multi-colored lights and simple ornaments but I just don't care for the work of it anymore. The tree we had, I will say, was a wonderful tree. It fit perfectly in the small space we alloted for it and did just what it was supposed to do. Be pretty, smell nice and remind me that it was Christmas, and not just the start of another dreary winter in New York. I used to love the whole Christmas thing much more than I do now. I hope that doesn't sound sacrilegious. It's just the busyness and silliness of Christmas as we know it that I can do without. I don't connect all the hoopla of Christmas time with God anymore. My most intimate encounters with the Lord more resemble His suffering on the the cross than the jollification of Christmas. As much as I have not liked the suffering, it is not worthy to be compared to the glory of Him. I wouldn't trade what He has taught me for anything the world can conjure up in it's feeble little head. The presence of Christ, inside of me, next to me, underneath me, above me, all around me, THAT is worth far more than the trinkets of the world. People on earth grasp for gold and diamonds, like it even matters. The saints in heaven are walking on the former like so much pavement and basking in a glimmer and a glow so far greater than any earthly element could provide.

Heaven is my reward. And not even that. I would take hell if it were where my Savior lives. It is not the place that I want; it is Him. It is not the mansion that He is building for me; it is His eyes looking into mine, loving me, knowing me the way I have always wished to be known since the day I was born. It is not the lush green fields with flowers that smell like nothing we have thought of or imagined down here. It is not the river of life, the marriage supper of the Lamb, or seeing the saints who have gone before. It is Jesus. My Jesus. The One Who willingly let them put nails in His hands just for me. Just so I could be with Him forever. The One that bought me before I was born and has sought after me every day since. The One that chases after me when I stray from Him and holds me fast so I won't leave again. The one Man in my life who is so jealous for me that He stops every other thing from coming near me if it's not His will. The one Man in my life that WANTS me to talk to Him and doesn't care how long I take, how many words I use, how many bunny trails I go on, and he doesn't fall asleep on me even if I do it to Him sometimes. He is my prize. My great reward. He is the air I breathe and the joy I exude. He is my holiness, my justification, my only righteousness. He is my mind, my words, my emotions. His will has become my will and no vice holds me in it's grip any longer because of His fullness in my body and mind. Nothing holds me to this earth but His mighty hand. If it were not for His fingers wrapped tightly around this body and soul, holding me here, my earthly tent would fall off of me like so much dead weight and I would fly away to be with the Love that I yearn for.

Five years ago I was on some medication for pain in my arm. The doctor didn't tell me and I was stupid enough not to know that I was not supposed to be driving while on this medicine. So I did. I fell asleep at the wheel of my car going 60 miles an hour. I woke up when I hit the telephone pole. The drivers side of my car was wrecked from the front headlight to the back. My window blew out and shattered glass all over me. Incredibly, I was able to start the car and drive it the last 1/2 mile to home. I drove it into the garage, called my husband bawling, and then went to bed for the day. Nothing was wrong with me. There were no physical ramifications from the accident at all. The enormity of what had happened just caused me to shut down. I finally got up because I kept having nightmares about the waking up in the car part. Now I know. Now I know that I am only here by His divine intervention. He is making me stay here now even though I long to be with Him. I know now that my time was up that day and every day since has been His doing. I was 47 years old that day. All the wonderful, awesome things that I have been able to do in the past five years; adopting the younger three children, participating in the birth of my three grandchildren and watching them grow, buying the cottage at the lake; all those things, while they might have happened anyway, at least the grandchildren part, are extra. Things I have that had it not been for God alone, I would not have had.

Thanks Sherry!