Disputed

By Kenny Gray

Thirty-Four years ago, I had a disease that the doctors didn't know exactly what I had at first. Medicine had no answers or cures. But a physical, supernatural, encounter with the Lord changed everything.

In this book, you're going to read about the God who is faithful, the God who is listening, and the God who is always right

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Native Publishers
• Release date: Nov 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9798869078162

Book preview

DISPUTED

BY

KENNY GRAY

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without permission from the copyright owner.

Copyright © 2023 by Kenny Gray

Author email: [e-mail]

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to the Lord. Thank you, Lord, for healing me and calling me into your team.  Without you, I am nothing. I’m just a stick in the hands of The Almighty.

Table of Contents

ONE ALABAMA SUMMER

CHAPTER 1: AT SOME POINT IN THE NIGHT

CHAPTER 2: THE HEALING GAME

CHAPTER 3: HOW TO DEAL

CHAPTER 4: DEDICATION

CHAPTER 5: TROUBLE

CHAPTER 6: STEWARDSHIP

CHAPTER 7: WHEN DOES GOD SHOW UP?

CHAPTER 8: A SOUL WINNER

ONE ALABAMA SUMMER

The afternoon had settled in. It was a typically hot summer day in Alabama. I was laying on the couch in pain. The ice water did not help, and the cold air from the vent of the window air conditioning unit was not helping with the pain either. I was laying on the couch crippled and in pain. It seemed like hours and hours had passed since I had cried out to the Lord asking for some sort of release from the pain of the day. My dad sat on the other end of the couch with my feet in his lap. He was massaging my feet because of all the swelling and I had some busted blood vessels in each leg. Some of the doctors had encouraged the massaging of my feet and legs to help with blood flow, to prevent blood clots, and to prevent additional blood vessels from popping in my legs and feet. Massaging never really helped with the pain at all. Sometimes it just didn't feel good to have my feet and legs touched. Socks hurt the worst let alone shoes. Hurting so much as I was in physical pain. For whatever reason my dad, while he was still massaging my feet and legs, began to kiss my feet. He had kissed my feet earlier and I had mentioned to him that when he kissed my feet I didn't feel pain. Somehow or another the pain was getting worse and worse seemingly by the minute. The usual pain relief of ice water or cold air from a vent wasn’t helping, it was one of the worst pain days I had.  As I lay there groaning in pain, with dad kissing my feet, he began to also pray for the pain to go away and healing to come. As odd as that sounds for a dad to kiss on their children’s feet, that was just how my dad was. Prayer was always a constant in our home. There's not much that can be done for someone that's in pain and medicine doesn't have an answer. What do you do? What do you say?

I was raised in a Christian home, and my father was a minister. My maternal grandfather was also a Pastor and had led my father to the Lord during his later years in high school. My dad was serving as the associate Pastor for Pastor Rabon Stewart just outside of Birmingham, AL. We went to church and not just to attend church, but we served the Lord. My dad worked a full-time job and worked at the church all the other times he had available or what was needed. My brief hospital stint at Children's Hospital in Birmingham, AL, my parents would alternate nights staying with me. I wasn't in the hospital very long, but I was there to have some tests ran and see some additional specialists. By now, I was used to doctors. I saw our general family doctor just about every other day and had blood drawn every other visit. I would be able to identify years later with drug addicts who had shot up with needles because I still had the marks on my arms because the nurses used the same holes each time. So it was one mark on each arm where the blood was drawn. I went in alternating each arm every visit for the blood test. As I got older, when I go for annual doctor visits, if the nurse couldn’t find a good vain, I would point and tell them to try at one of those marks and that generally worked. It wasn't until I was in my late 30’s that you really couldn't find the holes or the marks in my arms where they had drawn blood so many times during these four months of when I was sick and crippled. For a 7-year-old, who would be turning 8 years old, I could think of many things I would rather be doing than visiting the doctor every other day and being in the hospital. Missing school was the only cool part, but missing school just to go to the doctor was not ideal for anybody. Especially for someone like me who has always been very active.

Every Sunday we went to church. We didn't miss too many Sundays. I refused to be in a wheelchair, so I was carried everywhere. I was carried in grocery stores, restaurants and even church. Sometimes at the grocery store I was placed in the trolly or grocery cart and was pushed around with some grocery items all around me. We eventually went with two carts. Because of this I never went to children's church too often because it was upstairs. I would sit in an adult church if you can call it that. I sat in the main sanctuary even during preaching. Because my dad was an associate Pastor, I sat on the front row a good bit. I can still remember Pastor Rabon Stewart during the altar portion of the service. He would kneel at my feet, sometimes with tears in his eyes, and he would grab my feet and begin to pray. This was one of the reasons why I only let preachers pray for me, when preachers prayed, I never felt pain. Sometimes Pastor Rabon Stewart would stop preaching and kneel and pray for my feet in the middle of his sermon, and again I never felt the pain when a preacher was praying for me. The day I was admitted at Children’s Hospital, I made someone call the chaplain at Children's Hospital when my dad wasn't there and none of my family that were Pastors or ministers were there. I was only seven years old when I became sick and crippled. I was eight by the time I was healed. It was during this time that many things happened to me physically and spiritually. But from this, I’ve learned about the faith of a child. The kind of faith that trust so bluntly and blindly that seems to be so absent from mature Christians sometimes. In my house when we didn't feel well or something happened, we prayed, and it got better because of Jesus. Very simply put Jesus makes all things better.

In this book, you're going to hear about the God who is faithful, the God who is listening, who is always right beside us. The God who