Miracles by Terri Blackstock Page A

feeling pretty powerless lying here, like you’re not in control . . . like you can’t defend yourself.”
    â€œDefend myself from what?” the man asked, his eyes narrowing.
    Sam was at a loss. “From anything. I don’t know. What threatens you?”
    The man looked as if he thought Sam was crazy. “Nothing threatens me. I mean, nothing I can think of.”
    Fortunately, John took it from there, and Sam let out a heavy breath and stepped back. “Sid, you know you don’t have to feel powerless,” John said. “There is someone in control, and it’s someone who loves you and knows the number of hairs on your head.”
    Miss Hattie smiled, and the man looked up at him, his face changing as his eyes locked into John’s. Sam prayed that John would lead this man to Christ before they left here today.

    When they got back into the car to leave the hospital, John’s eyes were dancing. “I think this has got to be one of the best days of my Christian life.”
    Sam wished he felt so exuberant, but every muscle in his body was as rigid as stone. He knew the tension would take hours to subside. “I think it’s probably one of the worst days of my Christian life,” he admitted.
    â€œWhy?” John asked. “Don’t you feel good knowing that you’ll never get to the point where Miss Annabelle is, getting to the end of your life and feeling regret because you never led anyone to Christ? Look at how many people we’ve influenced just this morning.”
    â€œ You’ve influenced,” Sam said. “I haven’t really done anything except repeat back what I’ve heard.”
    â€œYou’ve done more than you know. You’ve listened, Sam. Not everybody listens.”
    â€œNot everybody has to hear what I hear,” Sam muttered. “What am I gonna do with this now? How am I gonna get used to this?”
    â€œMaybe you won’t ever. Maybe you’ll be known as the guy who can nail people’s souls. There are worse things people could say about you.”
    â€œI don’t want that reputation. Or that gift, or whatever you call it. I’m not ready for this.”
    â€œOf course you are. If I were to leave you right now at the bus station and you went in there and all those people were standing around, you’d know just what to do.”
    â€œNo, I wouldn’t,” he said. “It would freak me out. This morning in the grocery store when I was hearing all those voices at the same time all around me, I thought I was losing my mind.”
    â€œWell, if it was possible for you to transfer the gift to me, I’d take it before you could say Ephphatha.”
    Sam was exhausted by the time John agreed to return to the church. As John went in, Sam got into his car and sat there a moment, thinking. He knew he couldn’t handle going to the office, so he called Sally on his cell phone and told her he would be out the rest of the day.
    â€œI bought the lottery ticket, Sam,” she said. “Maybe you ought to start looking for another secretary.”
    He closed his eyes and dropped his head to the steering wheel. “How about I wait until you’ve gotten the check?”
    â€œAll right,” she said. “But I can’t promise two weeks’ notice.”
    He clicked off the cell phone and thought of the need he’d heard in her that morning. “ Eleven, six, fifty-seven . . . It has to win. It has to!”
    What if it did? He had heard it out loud, without her uttering the words. It didn’t fit the category of “spiritual need” like all the other things he’d heard today. Maybe she was onto something.
    He withdrew a pad of paper from his glove compartment and jotted down the numbers—11, 6, 57. He wondered if it was too late to buy a ticket.
    He started the car and headed to the closest convenience store that sold lottery tickets, pulled into the