When I was a young girl, my parents discovered I suffered from severe dyslexia. It was so bad I couldn’t read a single page of a book properly— not even as a freshman in high school. Everything was jumbled and back-to-front. The letters D and B were transposed. My mother would write letters on sandpaper, so I could feel them with my fingers and figure out which way they should go.
I only did well in school and graduated through memorization. I memorized entire textbooks and plays. But I couldn’t spell at all, which really embarrassed me. I asked my parents if I could study overseas. Since they’d already sent me to Switzerland previously, they said I could live on an Indian Reservation instead. There I first discovered the poor and found myself living among them. There I also became a Christian, at the age of sixteen, on March 14, 1976.
I was invited to a meeting and told, “If you come, God will do a miracle.” I needed a miracle— I needed my parents to get saved. I arrived at the meeting and discovered the preacher was a “Word” guy. Great, I thought. Lots of reading, and I can’t read. But something amazing began to happen. The preacher called out Deuteronomy, and I flipped my Bible open at Deuteronomy. He mentioned Lamentations, and I opened my Bible to it. It was strange— supernatural.
Later, we all lined up for prayer. Someone prayed for me— for my miracle— and I fell to the floor. Holy Spirit touched me. When I returned to my seat, I picked up my Bible. When I looked at the pages, I could hardly believe my eyes. I could read. I could understand the words; they were no longer mixed up. God had healed me.
I share my story, hoping it will encourage you with two truths. First, God knows everything about your situation, about the miracle you need— even if it’s not the one you think you need. Second, He still heals today. Keep pressing into His presence.
He will meet with you, and something supernatural can happen.