Lately, I’ve been living out of a suitcase, instead of going in and out of doctors offices. I’ve been swimming in oceans instead of visiting hospitals. I’ve been able to eat food, instead of taking medication every day just so I can keep my food in.

When I first became sick, in 2015, the doctors said they can’t help me. There was no cure or diagnosis. They didn’t know what exactly was wrong with me. And they didn’t know how to fix it. I stopped counting how many doctor’s I’ve seen. Or how many pills I had to take each day. I stopped counting all the nights I woke up screaming in pain. The amounts of times I woke up with my face covered in tears. Or the times, I went days without food because I couldn’t keep anything in. I stopped counting because, if I had to count it would nearly be around 550 days of intense pain and being sick. 

The more tests they did, the less answers they had for me. And the more my irritation grew.

We resulted to praying for my healing. I have always believed in healing. I’ve prayed for people and seen God heal them, from things far worse than my condition, so I new a miracle could take place. We prayed and I got healed in February 2016.

June 2016, it came back. And it was worse than ever. I walked less. The pain was worse when I was walking. I got light headed often. My head was screaming. Panic attacks followed. I saw my ceiling more than I saw the sun. The doctors told me to live with it. I said some other things.

I was sick on my seventeeth and eighteenth birthday. My best friend held back my hair while I emptied my insides on my 17th. How memorable.

Some people questioned my faith. How can I still believe in healing when it’s back. Jesus died on the cross. And he overcame all sickness, suffering and death. There have been times where I was convinced I was dying. Sounds overdramatic, but that’s how it felt. As if all your organs were shutting down, and trying to suffocate you.

But Jesus overcame it all on the cross. I do not believe Jesus died for nothing. The fact  is, when you pray things happen! The fact of the matter is, healing has already taken place. It is the manifestation of that healing that needs to happen. This thing is real, and it’s happening. I’ve seen people raised from the dead and I’ve seen people stand up from wheelchairs. I don’t question the Power of God, because I’ve seen it happen work miraculous things.

I’m not afraid to say, that at the beginning I questioned God a lot. But my faith has grown immensely. This was an attack from the devil, but he was not gonna win. God has given me the authority to take on all weapons formed against me and that they won’t prosper. This included sickness. It was not going to touch me ever again.

So why did it come back? I don’t know. I don’t ask those type of questions anymore. I just stand in my faith and I don’t accept the doctor’s results. I know they’re doing their job. I respect them for that. Please understand, Doctors are not Second Class Healing. That’s something Paul Manwaring once said. God created Doctors for a purpose. But just because they give you facts, doesn’t mean you need to accept it and make it your truth. The truth always overrides the facts. 

That’s why when I take my medication (I may believe in complete healing but God also gave us knowledge and wisdom to take our medication) in the morning, I speak life into my body. 

With it being Easter and everything, it’s just a confirmation on that promise that “It is Finished!”

No more pain. No more sickness. No more death. No more poverty

Love and Blessings



A new sound Part 1

Matthew 28: 19 – Go out and make disciples in all the nations. Ceremonially wash them through baptism in the name of the triune God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Then disciple them. Form them in the practices and postures that I have taught you, and show them how to follow the commands I have laid down for you. And I will be with you, day after day, to the end of the age. 
As I sit among these people, I feel my heart breaking. Their eyes are dull. Faces sullen. They look so…lost. Like little children alone in a shopping aisle, searching for their father. They are searching for the Father.

Rolling my lips into my mouth, I stop myself from crying. I won’t cry. Crying doesn’t get anyone anywhere. It won’t fix anything. Instead, I force a smile and start talking to one of them. A little girl, five years old, joins me and climbs onto my lap. The lady I’m talking to, tells me about her children and family. She tells me how she got here. She tells me she doesn’t like it here. But it will do. For now. She wants to leave. She wants to go, disolve into the ground and never come back. Her words rip at my insides. They sound so familiar. Those exact words have left my lips many years ago. And recently they’ve left the lips of two family members. It hits home. She tells me if she could die right now, she would be happy. 

I’ve seen many things. I’ve experienced many things. I’ve been on that side of the spectrum. Wanting to escape life, with blades and pills and guns. Recklessly walking in front of cars, hoping they’ll hit you. Trying to overdose on sleeping pills. It’s not a nice place to be in. In my lifetime, I wrote five suicide notes. They never made it to anyone. Fortunately. But as I sit across from this woman, I see my old self in her. Someone who completely gave up on life. Someone who lost all the light and hope in their eyes. 

I breathe out a shaky breath, because for a moment I don’t see her anymore but the twelve year old version of myself in flashes. The little girl on my lap, and I, take the woman’s hands in ours. I speak slowly and gently. We talk to her about Jesus. Tell her death isn’t the way out. If you die, you haven’t conquered death. Death has conquered you. We ask her if she has any pain. She points at her knees. I ask her to place her hands on them.

The reason I usually have people lay their hands on themselves is simple, to show them I’m not the one who has healed them but that they’re healed through the Power of God and He can work through anyone.

I place my hands over hers, and the little girl covers my hands with hers. Then we start to pray. We pray for all stress and trauma to leave her body. We pray for peace to consume her. We pray for perfection. For complete healing in the Name of Jesus. The five year old prays as well. It’s incoherent but she prays with such passion it moves me. 

When we’re finished praying, we remove our hands and ask her how it’s feeling. She says the pain is dull but it’s still there. Unacceptable. Jesus died and took upon himself ALL sickness. And with that we pray again, cause the light is invading the darkness and we stand for nothing less than complete restoration.

The little girl is mumbling under her breath with eyes shut tightly. Imitating what I’m doing. I’ve never seen something so precious. As we’re praying I feel God’s presence in the room. We remove our hands once again and ask her how she’s feeling. She says ALL pain is gone. She looks at us with amazement. And bewilderment. 

I feel a burning sensation inside of me, as I stand up to hug her goodbye. It’s the first time I’ve prayed for someone with a child accompanying me. Child-like faith. That’s what I see when I look at the blonde haired princess. And now I know why Heidi Baker has such a passion for it. To children, the Supernatural is natural. 

The little girl got excited when she saw the lady got healed. She tugged on my hand and said, “Let’s pray for more people!” And with that, we started praying for everyone in that room. The little girl taking the lead. Myself, just following. And we saw miracle after miracle after miracle occur. 

Love and Blessings

Milanie xx