Testimonies Blog

One of the best tubercular specialists in Los Angeles was summoned and he confirmed the verdict of the army physicians with the addition of putting him on a strict diet. For several weeks, he lay there. Then one Sunday morning in his own words he was “in a growling mood.” He lay on the bed thinking of his condition, thoroughly discouraged, and saying, “Lord, I’ve done the very best for You I could. I’ve worked myself completely down and here I am, no good to You, no good to myself and no good to the world. The doctors say there isn’t any hope for me anyway, so just let me die.” Lying there and while still in this humor he picked up his Bible laying near and opened to the 22nd Psalm and read just the first verse and no further, “My God, my God, why hast
Thou forsaken me? Why art Thou so far from helping me?” Just that far he read; then throwing the Bible to one side he continued grumbling: “Yes, Lord, You have just utterly forsaken me. There is no help for me at all and I had rather just die.” Then the sweet, still, small voice of the Saviour spoke to him. “Don’t you remember mother wrote that this morning at the service in the Church they would all be praying for you and that they were going to believe God to heal your lungs and make you strong and well for service again? Don’t you remember God healed your father when the physicians said he was dying? Your mother, when she was dying with this very same disease that has fastened on your body, tuberculosis? Your brother of spinal meningitis, and your own eyes when you were almost totally blind?”

By the time the Lord stopped talking Raymond’s heart was repentant and broken and he whispered back, “Dear Lord, forgive, I do remember and I do believe.” Reaching for his Bible again, it opened this time to the 103rd Psalm and he read the third verse: “Who forgiveth all thine iniquities, Who healeth all thy diseases.” Pushing back the covers
he raised up in the bed and, slowly creeping from the bed, he stood erect. The devil trying all the while to discourage him, but God had spoken and he was now believing for victory in his body. Staggering back and forth across the room, with the dear old Bible raised above his head, he whispered in his weak voice, “I praise You, Lord, I praise You, Lord, I praise You, Lord. I know You are healing me.” With each praise his voice
got louder until he was shouting. His strength came rapidly and he realized he was healed. Opening the door, he ran down the steps and into the dining room, where the
friends with whom he was staying were having the noon meal. He frightened them terribly, they thought surely he had lost his mind, as he shouted over and over again, “The Lord has healed me. The Lord has healed me. The Lord has healed me.” They tried to quiet him, but he could not be quieted. In a little while he ran back up the steps again and as he did so, again the devil whispered, “Your lungs may be healed, but don’t forget that your heart is in very bad condition and you have been warned that any sudden excitement or over exertion is liable to prove fatal.” The reply to this was, “God has healed my heart as well as my lungs,” and back down the steps he ran and up again and, to quote him, he has been “running ever since.” This was in September 1919, and since
that time he has been in meetings almost continually; sometimes as many as seven meetings daily, and God has wonderfully blessed and supplied the necessary strength. His lungs are strong and sound and he can make himself heard in any of the large buildings where the meetings have been held.

Excerpt from the book “What God Hath Wrought in the Life of Raymond T. Richey” by Eloise May Richey.