Hearts on Her Hat--Story of a Miracle

  Last week we had friends for supper who have known Jonathan and me since before we were married.
She was wearing an unusual denim hat with little hand-crocheted hearts sewn onto it.

A sort of vintage style, and so many people tell our friend that they love it!
Perfect strangers in stores, for example.
The hat had a story behind it, of a suffering lady who crocheted these hearts.
And then our friends shared another story, which, if you like stories of miracles, you can read on. 
 

  "You Have Five Years to Live!"

            Young Dave Norris sat waiting as Dr. Gilbard--stocky, Swedish, and very, very short–entered the room. In her hands was a thick stack of papers which she set on the table.
    "From all the tests and symptoms regarding your asthma," she explained matter-of-factly, "you have three to five years to live."
    If Dave had been having trouble breathing before this announcement, he could hardly breathe at all now! The year was 1973, and he was just twenty-three years old. He had a young wife and a baby boy at home. He couldn't just die so soon like that! Dave sat stunned as the doctor handed him the stack of papers.
    "This is different information which might be a help to your wife and family when--" she paused, "when it happens. But," she went on cheerfully, "you do have an option. I have actually managed to procure for you a ticket to my very own hospital in Sweden. It is a very good hospital, and they have excellent treatment for asthma patients."
    Sweden was not only far across the ocean, it was also the farthest thing from Dave's mind. He was not the least bit interested in flying across the world to some strange hospital in Sweden, far away from his wife and little boy.   
    "What about moving to a drier climate?" Dave asked desperately. "Would that help?"
    The doctor shook her head thoughtfully. "It might extend your life a year or two," she said.
    But Dave was not deterred. He promptly called his wife and told her the shocking news, adding, "I think we should move to a drier climate first and see if that will help."
    It was true that the humidity in the New England states was terrible. Dave had been born in Connecticut and his wife in Vermont. Between the ocean and the Great Lakes and other lakes in between, humidity was part of life. And for Dave, unfortunately, smoking had also been part of life--ever since he was eight years old, in fact. It was when he was just a young boy that he smoked for the first time, and when he did, it felt like smoking was just a part of him. Everyone in his family smoked, and his body was so used to smoke that it didn't make him sick the first time he tried a cigarette. From the age of eight, he smoked for years until he began to attend a Nazarene Church with his wife and found out that smoking was not a good thing to do. Desperately, he tried to quit smoking, but to no avail. Smoking was so much a part of his life that it was almost impossible to stop.
    Nevertheless, the Lord helped him, and little by little he began to give up the habit. His little family made the big move clear across the country to the state of Colorado which was a sanctuary for asthma patients because of its dry climate. There Dave found a little church in Colorado Springs.
     One day after the pastor heard about Dave's asthma, he called Dave up front.
    "I feel led to have an anointing service," the pastor explained. "I would like to anoint you with oil and pray for God's healing of your asthma."
    Dave had never had such a thing happen to him before, but he was willing. Before long, the front of the church was filled with church folk kneeling in humility and faith, calling on God in prayer for young Dave Norris.
    The next day, a lady from church called the Norrises."How is Dave doing?" she wondered. "He's better, isn't
    Dave was not so sure. He did not feel any better actually, and told the lady so.
    "Then you get down and pray right now!" the lady urged. "I will pray with you over the phone!"
    So Dave and his wife knelt down right there in their little Colorado home [kitchen?] and had another prayer meeting with the lady on the other end of the line calling on God on their behalf. When she finished praying, Dave had to admit that he did not feel bad anymore. Had something really happened to him? Had God healed him?
    From that day on, Dave's life was in God's hands. He continued to suffer some from chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, but year after year, God kept him. Fifty years later as he sat at a friend's dinner table, he recalled that day at the doctor's office as vividly as if it were yesterday.

    "I still remember her waddling in," he smiled, "that very, very short Swedish doctor. I still remember her telling me, 'You have five years to live,' and giving me a pile of papers for my wife for after I died, and an airline ticket to Sweden, just in case I wanted to make a last ditch effort! But God had other plans--Colorado, a little church on Seventeenth Street, and His own healing touch! God be praised!"