Lunch-Break Miracles
By Diana Aydin

My Dad, the Miracle Man

Today’s blog post comes from Katie Mahon, co-author of The Miracle Chase.

Katie’s dad passed away more than 30 years ago, long before she became a miracle expert. So she never got a chance to really discuss the miraculous with him.

And yet, since his death, Katie has experienced one dad-related miracle after another...

I can still remember the moment Dad passed away like it was yesterday. He’d gone into a coma, after being diagnosed with terminal cancer six weeks before. For several hours his breathing had been labored, his eyes open and rolled back.

All of a sudden my mom, who was holding his hand, began to recite a prayer: May your soul and the souls of all the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace. As she began to speak, Dad’s eyes came down and met Mom’s eyes in recognition and peace. It was a surreal moment, one that I later recognized as the first miracle Dad gave us.  

Later that afternoon, my brother and I were tasked with picking out Dad’s cemetery plot, a job neither of us wanted. How could we choose? What if we picked wrong? The gentleman helping us pointed out our options on a map of the grounds. “There’s a spot open down here by this path... or up here on this grassy hill...” he said. I glanced at my brother. My gut was telling me to pick the hill. I could just tell he felt the same way.

“The hill,” we said together.

“OK, let’s see,” the man said, cross-checking the map against a list in his hand. “That’s plot Number 41.”

My brother and I looked at each other again, this time in amazement. Number 41–that was my parents’ address number. A little sign that we’d chosen correctly.

Eighteen months later, my husband, Jim, and I were expecting our first baby and moving from our small apartment to a new townhouse in a gated community. As we drove down the freeway with a final load of boxes, I suddenly burst into tears.

“Katie, what’s wrong?” Jim asked, panicked.

“When Dad died, we lived in the apartment. Now he won’t know where to find me!” I sobbed, knowing I sounded like a crazy pregnant woman.

The next day, there was a knock on our new front door. A representative from the homeowners’ association with our personal code to open the gate to our neighborhood. “Your code is... Number 41,” the man said, explaining how the keypad worked. But I’d stopped listening. Dad knew exactly where I was.

It happened again just a few weeks ago. I had a story about my book, The Miracle Chase, in Mysterious Ways magazine. I wish Dad could’ve been around to see it, but I know without a doubt he would’ve been proud. You see, when I flipped through the magazine, I couldn’t help but notice the page that my story started on–Page 41.

This Father’s Day, I will miss my Dad. But I thank God for the miracles he’s sent my way since he died. Little reminders that let me know my dad is in a good place.

And who knows? Maybe, one day, we’ll connect again and finally get our chance to talk miracles.

Have you ever experienced a miraculous moment with your dad? Share your story below!

You can read more about Katie’s adventures with the miraculous on her blog or by visiting her Facebook and Twitter pages.

Diana Aydin is an associate editor for Mysterious Ways magazine. When she was just a little kid, she got her first dose of the miraculous. She’s been on the lookout for miracles ever since. Her favorite time of the day is lunch time, when she gets to step away from the workaday world and enjoy a bit of God’s wonder, if only for an hour!

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As a fellow miracle chaser, I am always so appreciative to read and hear other's stories. Thank you, Maroonbell, for sharing such a wonderful story, and I am partial to Dad miracles-so happy you had your father in your life for all those years!

When Dad was 48 he was diagnosed with cancer in his hand. He'd had benign tumors in his hand several times over the years but this time it was cancerous and he would need surgery. I was 19 and so distraught. The word "cancer", to me, just meant death, and I didn't want to lose my dad. I cried and prayed. I'd been a new Christian just for a few months and didn't know much about praying for healing, but I knew that Jesus healed a lot of people and I would ask him to heal my dad. After praying, I opened my Bible to read my usual chapters for that day. The story in the passage I read just happened to be the one where Jesus healed the man with the withered hand, making it as whole as the other. I felt it was no coincidence I'd read that just after praying for Jesus to heal Dad's hand! Next day I called Mom, told her about my prayer and read the passage to her. She went and looked up the passage herself so she could read it to Dad. That's the only time I can remember Mom ever reading scripture. Well, a few months later, Dad decided to have the surgery to not only remove the tumor but probably part of his hand, too. I was so opposed to the idea of his having surgery, so sure that God was intending to heal him. He and my mom travelled to Bethesda, MD for the surgery. Being that it was a research hospital, the cost was supposed to be less. The morning of the day his surgery was scheduled, I can't explain how extremely bothered I was about the surgery -- like I knew that I knew he wasn't supposed to have it. So much so that I prayed intensely that someone would walk into Dad's hospital room and say something that would change his mind about the going through with the operation. I waited and waited to hear any news. A few hours later, my grandma came knocking at the door of my apartment. I opened the door and with her eyes wide, she said, "You won't believe it, but your folks are on their way back home. He's not having the surgery. He'd changed his mind!". I began to smile as I KNEW it was an answer to prayer. Grandma was shocked that I was happy about it. Once back home again, Dad told his side of the story. He said they'd already begun to sedate him in preparation for the surgery. A nurse walked in his room and said something that lead Dad to believe that, being a research hospital, they'd probably amputate his entire hand, in order to do research on his type of cancer. He'd been told if it were necessary that might happen, but what this nurse said sounded more like they'd probably do it anyway, for their own benefit. That changed his mind right then and there. He got up and dressed and said, thanks but no thanks and left the hospital! As soon as he told that story, I remembered my precise prayer -- that someone would walk in his room and say something that would change his mind about the surgery -- and that is exactly what happened! Dad was overwhelmed when he heard this and knew that God was up to something. And that was big, because Dad never talked about God and wasn't a church-going man. There was a wound in his hand where he'd had a biopsy. When it healed, it left a scar. The scar was in the shape of a cross! All these things were God reaching into my dad's life to draw him near. Although Dad still opted to have surgery awhile later, he had it done locally and they took part of his hand. I couldn't understand because I thought he was to be healed. But years later, God made me know that he WAS healed. God never said HOW he'd do it, just that he would. The doctors only gave Dad a 5-year life expectancy after the surgery, I guess because he refused any further treatment such as chemo or radiation. But he lived nearly 30 more years -- another miracle!

Maroonbell, This story is of Biblical proportions, a Story of Twelve Miracles (perhaps more). Sometimes a miracle gives birth to a chain of miracles. God used your prayers for your father although you were new to the life of faith (1). Your attention to the scriptures, inspired by God (2)-- was used (3)by God leading you to a specific and spectacularly appropriate Jesus healing; because (4) Jesus healed a man with a withered hand 2000+ years ago -- to encourage you as you prayed (5). Awesome how that happens! Then, through you, to encourage both your mom and your dad(6 and 7)as being guided by scripture was not their habit. Those miracles gained force when he went to the hospital and had the wisdom and courage to walk away (8) despite sedation (9). I know how hard it can be to reject "the conventional wisdom" of medical people who either don't really know what they are doing or who have a hidden research agenda! Your father not only had a successful surgery (10) but had the further wisdom to refuse additional treatment (11). And then, to live the full measure of earthly life (12). Thank you for your inspiring reminder of the ways God can move in and through us to bless others.

That's a cool story.. Just lost my beloved Pastor..Cancer. But it was not the disease that killed him, it was the so-called cure.