OPAL (TATE) CAPALDI'S HEALING

I couldn't bear the pain! Tuberculosis was bad enough, but being separated from my two small children was unbearable. Kenny was three years old and little Sharon was only one-and-a-half. I was twenty-two, and headed for a TB Sanitarium.

I said goodbye to the children that dreadful morning as my husband, John and I left them in Tulsa. His sister, Annabelle, loved kids so I knew they would be okay with her, but I had to tear myself away.

John drove me to the Sanitarium at Talihina, Oklahoma. I carried my bags up the walkway alone — he would not go in. An early November snow added to the cold feeling in my heart as I moved toward the dreary doorway. Everything looked so scary to me. Would I ever see my kids again?

I cried myself to sleep that night. I cried often in that lonely place. Would I die and not get to raise my kids?

The doctors and nurses were good to me, but I felt deserted by my husband, my kids, my family, and God. Would I ever live a normal life again?

I prayed often for my healing. One day in January I felt in my spirit that I should go home and God would heal me. The doctors were very skeptical, but I insisted. They reluctantly let me go. I picked up my children at Annabelle's and took them to my parent's house. A glorious reunion!

But when John learned I was back in Tulsa he came and took the children away. "I don't want our kids to catch what you've got," he said.

This crushed me, but in my skinny, weakened condition I didn't have the strength to put up much resistance. After he drove away with them I felt completely rejected, all empty inside. "Lord, help me!" I cried. "I want my family back. I want my health back."

My niece, Josephine, and I heard about a tent revival being conducted by Rev. Steve Pringle. We rode the bus and joined others in the crowded tent meeting. After the sermon, Brother Pringle asked for those who wanted healing to come forward. I began to work my way forward, but then a thought came to me, if I told him I had TB, the whole crowd would be afraid of catching it. I would return to my seat.

Then I thought about the Lord impressing me before I left the Sanitarium that he would heal me. I stayed in line. When the minister saw my skinny face, arms and legs, he asked what was wrong and I told him. He asked the congregation, "Do you believe God can heal this young woman?" With his faith, mine and theirs working jointly he anointed me with oil, laid his hand on my forehead and prayed for deliverance.

As Josephine and I left the tent I felt something different — I was being healed as we walked toward the bus stop!

The next day the doctor examined me and told me I was fine. When I got home I watched steam rise from my mother's stew and my mouth salivated. The potatoes, tomatoes, beef and onions smelled delicious. My appetite had returned.

During the next few weeks my weight returned to normal. I had been healed by the power of God. Thank you Jesus for healing me! After X-rays revealed that I had no TB, my husband returned and I got to raise my children. He became a Christian before he died many years later.

Now, at 83 I am a great-grandmother. I give God all the glory. I won't tell how much I now weigh, but by looking at me, you wouldn't believe I ever had TB!

Opal (Tate) Capaldi