by Leah Morgan
God still speaks and He still hears the cries of those who speak to Him. He’ll do the impossible and miraculous to answer those desperate cries. Here’s the true account of my brother, Jerry, and his friend, Aaron, ordinary men used to answer the prayers of people clear across the globe.
In August of 2009, about 5:45 a.m., I was praying. “Lord, show me your heart. Let me pray your thoughts. Share your burden with me.” Suddenly I heard the word Darfur spoken aloud and in the same instant I found myself standing in a village. It was night. I saw flashes of gunfire and heard automatic weapons in the distance. There were thatch covered mud huts and buildings burning in the background. Many were crying and screaming as armed groups chased the people.
A man held two girls by the hand, each of them running as fast as they could. I heard him crying, “O God! Deliver my daughters! Take my life but spare them.” He wept as they raced toward where I was standing. I saw myself motioning for the man to run down the small alleyway between the buildings where I stood. I stepped in front of him and then he and his daughters disappeared under the shadows of the huts. I heard the word again, “Darfur,” and I began to intercede for that place.
I later searched the internet for a place called Darfur certain it must exist, and wept uncontrollably when I saw the accounts of genocide in that region of Sudan.
From that day, there has been this desire to go there to preach the gospel. I sought opportunities with several mission contacts but found no open door.
A year later as I cried out to God saying, “I don’t know how to get there. Lead me. I know you can take me if it is your will. Show me where you want me to preach next,” I heard Him say, “You will preach in Uganda Africa. I am sending you there to leaders who need help and who are seeking for me.”
Five days later I was contacted by a pastor and invited to Uganda to preach during a crusade and conference. I didn’t have a passport or airline ticket, and lacked support and money to purchase either, but in just 15 days, God had sent me $2,000 dollars without my fundraising or asking any church for support.
When I arrived I was mobbed by little children who had no shoes, some with bloated stomachs. All of them were in need of healing and nourishment. As I looked at them standing there the Lord spoke to my heart and said, “I have sent you here to represent me. What I have cleansed call not common or unclean. You love them like I would have loved them. I am here in your heart. Love them for me.”
Tears filled my eyes; my heart was broken. I spread my arms out and began to touch each of those children blessing them in His Name. I will never forget that moment. God broke something in me and I will never be the same.
My preacher friend, Aaron and I both attended The School of Christ International and share a passion to spread the gospel. At his invitation I joined him on a mission trip to Uganda in 2010.
God confirmed His pleasure in many ways through provision, healings, and souls won to Christ. One special moment occurred when a Ugandan pastor told us that he’d been waiting for us. In 2008 God told him that He would send two white men from The School of Christ to help them share the gospel.
When we received an invitation to return to Uganda and to visit Kenya as well, we gladly acted upon it and during that follow-up trip received an open door to Sudan.
A couple weeks prior to our departure to the land of Aaron’s vision, a large mass formed inside my neck. I had it examined and the doctor insisted I cancel my plans to travel to Sudan. He advised that until a thorough diagnosis could be made, antibiotics should be administered immediately which was not possible while receiving pretreatment for malaria in preparation for the upcoming trip.
I balked. I would go regardless of the situation. But at my doctor’s continued attempts to dissuade me I wondered if I was being foolish. Stubborn. Maybe I was driven by personal ambition rather than divine motivation. I began to relent in order to consider my health.
In that moment of consent, a scripture shone through my thoughts, “None of these move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself, so that I might finish my course with joy, and the ministry, which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of the grace of God.” In light of those familiar words I found it difficult to imagine the Apostle Paul consulting with a doctor for permission to enter Rome.
I addressed the doctor, “Even if it is cancer, it’s not going to kill me in the two weeks I’m gone, right?”
His eyes got big and he hesitated before answering me. “Well, no.”
“I’m going!” I made my declaration and acted upon it.
It turned out to be a divinely orchestrated trip. We were provided the opportunity that blossomed into the opening of the first School of Christ International in Sudan as an outreach to train local ministers.
Once home I returned to the doctor for diagnosis and treatment of the mass on my neck. It was determined to be a branchial cyst and required surgical removal.
On August 1, 2011 I lay on the pre-op table awaiting anesthesia for the scheduled surgery. A priest enters my room and offers me a copy of Our Daily Bread devotional. I turn to the day’s scripture and am amazed at what I see. I read aloud, “Jesus went about doing good, and healing all that were oppressed of the devil.” (Acts 20:24)
“Did you hear that?” I said to the anesthesiologist remaining in the room. “It says Jesus healed them ALL!”
“The only Jesus you’ll see today is waiting for you back there in surgery with a knife,” he told me.
I arrived in surgery but the surgeon discovered she had no need of her knife. The mass had disappeared.
A biopsy tested for cancer came back benign. We rejoiced and spread the news of God’s power and care.
Three months after this miraculous healing Aaron and I were making plans to return to Sudan. Just as before I’d made my first trip there, a mass appeared on my neck a couple weeks prior to our departure. The doctor examined me again and said, “We don’t know what we’re dealing with here.” I find that statement more profound than he intended it to be.
The healing of the mass was supernatural. What can its presence and reappearance be attributed to but a spiritual attack?
In addition to the reappearance of the mass, I was physically assaulted in a most bizarre and unusual event, and then discovered that funds wired ahead to support our mission work had been stolen.
The Apostle Paul, that great missionary whose words inspired my courage to make the previous trip, said himself, “Wherefore we would have come unto you, even I Paul, once and again; but Satan hindered us.” (II Thessalonians 2:18) Even the recalled verse from the hospital bed takes on fresh significance, “healing all that were oppressed of the devil.”
I’m excited to be a part of Kingdom work that threatens the forces of darkness enough to war against our participation even if that part be small. I’ll be happy just to be the cog on the wheel that advances the Kingdom of God.
Aaron and I have a passion to share Christ in the regions He has called us to. We appreciate any hearts that will join us in praying for the same thing the Apostle Paul requested, “Finally, brethren, pray for us, that the word of the Lord may have free course, and be glorified, even as it is with you.” (II Thessalonians 3:1)
Leah Morganwas sidelined from her congressional aspirations when her mother bargained like a politician herself offering paid tuition in exchange for attending a year’s worth of Bible College. Leah ended up completing that three year Bible course and in the process had a life readjustment. She is now enacting and enforcing laws upon her three children who remain below the legal age to vote. Her husband, Bonnard, is the President of this union and sometimes of the same party line. They live in an ancient home in a small Maryland town where George Washington probably slept or picked his wooden teeth or something.
Author’s note: Aaron and Jerry leave for their second visit to Sudan on November 18, 2011. Jerry still has the mysterious mass in his neck.