I climbed back up on the monkey bars

I was in Dallas last summer visiting my best friend, Anna. It was her little brother's birthday. I fell off the monkey bars and landed on my arm. I couldn't move it, and it looked funny.

Mommy picked me up, and we sat down and prayed together. She talked to me about a story called "The House with the Colored Windows." In the story, a white horse looked blue through a blue window, and red through a red window. But the horse was never anything but white. Mommy told me that that's how I was—that all of me, including my arm, was perfect, even if it looked broken or out of joint at the moment.

When we got up, my arm wasn't bent funny anymore. But I still couldn't move it.

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Testimony of Healing
The nurse's office
March 29, 2004
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