It was the middle of the night, and the children were sound asleep despite the blaring sirens, flashing lights, and medical personnel rushing through the house. The new neighbor across the street came over, introduced herself, and asked if there was anything she could do to help. “Can you stay with the kids while I go to the hospital with Ted?” my mother gratefully asked; she knew the neighbor’s offer was a Godsend and didn’t think twice about leaving my brother and me with a virtual stranger in the middle of the night.

Dad had a massive heart attack that night at 39 years old. The doctors worked on him for hours before finally informing my mom that he was brain dead. One of the doctors God placed in that room was an old family friend and, more importantly, a believer. As he tearfully informed my mother that her husband was brain dead and there was nothing more the hospital could do for him, he added a message of hope. He wanted to keep my dad on life support for 24 hours. He believed God was a miracle-maker and that God still had work for my dad to do.

My mother agreed and immediately began making phone calls, activating prayer chains around the world. One of the first calls she made was to her former dance teacher, Corky Bell, who was now a pastor in Tennessee and known for his healing prayers. Corky asked her to gather friends and family who were believers to meet him at the hospital in the few hours the drive would take him.

When Corky arrived at the hospital, he asked those that had gathered if they truly believed 100% that God could and would work miracles. He asked that anyone who wasn’t certain that my dad could be miraculously healed leave the room. He took one of my dad’s hands, asked my mother to take the other, and asked everyone else to join hands and encircle the hospital bed. Then Corky began to pray that God work a miracle in that room and heal my father. As Corky ended his prayer, my brain-dead father squeezed Corky and my mom’s hands and said, “Amen.”

I wasn’t present when God brought my father back from the dead, but I certainly knew about the great miracle that had been worked. It wasn’t the first miracle I bore witness to, nor was it the last, but it was undoubtedly the most amazing!

I see miracles every day in the lives of the men and women at The Foundry. Some are small, like finding something precious that was lost. Others are big, a life given over to Christ, broken hearts healed, or addictions overcome. All are equally miraculous.

We serve a wonder-working God, and His miracles are not just something that happened in the Bible; they didn’t stop when the final book was written. Miracles still happen. Too often, I hear people say that God doesn’t work miracles anymore, that it was just a “thing” of the Bible. But I stand here today and testify that God can, will, and does work miracles. If His children take the time to stop and rest in this busy world, we will see that He is working miracles all around us every day. Some are huge, like my father’s return from the dead. Others are small, like finding an old photograph you thought was gone forever. All show us that He is still working His miracles in our lives.

-Ashley Setters