As most of you know, I write historical fiction stories and integrate Native American folklore into my novels. The Native Americans were big believers that there must be an equilibrium between the natural and the spiritual realms, and although I am a Christian and have a different belief system entirely, I am one in the belief that there must be a healthy respect for the spiritual realm, for there are many things as human beings that we cannot hope to encase into the natural realm.
Native American peace pipes were and still are, often used in spiritual ceremonies. During these ceremonies, Native Americans will smoke from the peace pipe and say a prayer to the four directions. The Native American peace pipe is not restricted to being used only by Native Americans, but it is a spiritual thing and what it symbolizes must be respected by everyone attending the ceremony. Other types of pipes used in ceremonies are the medicine pipe and the war pipe. The Indian that carried the peace pipe was often allowed to pass through enemy territory out of respect. The war pipe had red feathers symbolizing blood and was smoked before going into battle.
Transformation by definition is a change in form, appearance, nature or character. And I myself have recently encountered a life changing experience, which has acted as a catalyst which has transitioned me to a place that I have never known before. I have always been a believer in God, and have also been a leader in church settings in the past; but after barely surviving several serious blows in my life, I haven’t exactly been living victoriously in recent years. But there is nothing like the life threatening illness of a loved one, to get you back on course.
In actual fact, my Dad three weeks ago tragically suffered a serious brain bleed where a large artery in the back of his head literally exploded and he was rushed into emergency surgery. Several days after the surgery, the neurosurgeon was convinced that my Dad’s condition had worsened so severely, that he was not going to survive and that we needed to turn his ventilator off and to let him quietly die with some degree of dignity. Yet, I knew the power of prayer and although I did not want to impede God’s will for my Dad’s life, I also was not ready to let him go to the spiritual realm without reconciliation with God. And so I prayed morning, noon and night for my Dad for two solid weeks, and believed for a miracle.
Remarkably, my brother, who is also a Christian and believes in the power of prayer, had a shocking dream during the onset of my Dad’s illness, only two days after it occurred…which endorsed this prayer intercession; and I believe as spiritual head of our family, his dream was instrumental in getting everyone going the right direction in prayer and believing for My Dad’s miracle. My brother was asleep in his hotel room that night, and suddenly saw himself in the dream: “standing on some sort of platform and he was holding our Dad with both arms and trying to pull him back from the flames of Hell.” “In fact, my brother was trying so hard that he turned around and was trying to press his chest against a hard surface for leverage, and began pulling my Dad with one arm with all of his might to try to get him out of the flames,” and then he suddenly woke up. My brother then noticed his chest was hurting very badly and got up out of bed to look in the mirror in his hotel, and noticed there was a large bruise in the middle of his chest, Shocked and humbled by what he saw, my brother then started to weep and cry out to God in prayer intercession for our Dad.
Now let me be plain, my brother and I are very practical people; and are not given to flights of fancy. Yet, it was clear what we were meant to do and we have never stopped praying since. And even though all the doctors predicted my Dad had brain stem inactivity and would be paralyzed from the neck down; if he even lived, which was a 5% chance at best. My Dad by his doctor’s admission “has defied medical science,” and is now moving all of his limbs and talking and getting stronger each and every day in a rehabilitation hospital.
Quite simply, the power of prayer actioned by ourselves and countless others has birthed a miracle from God in my Dad’s life, both physically and spiritually; and these remarkable events have transitioned me to a new purpose in life, and although I will keep writing…prayer will now be a focal point in my life for myself and my family; and all those who cross my path for the rest of my life in the days ahead.