Pastor’s Dead Son

A pastor’s thirteen-year-old son contracted leukemia. He happened to be an only child. Upon knowledge of the condition, the pastor began to pray and fast. The pleadings were heartfelt to God that the child could be healed.

Unfortunately, the boy’s health continued to get worse. “Oh, God,” pleaded the pastor, “he is my only son; please don’t let him die.” The pleading seemed to go unheard until finally the boy passed away.

Grief-stricken, the family laid the lad to rest. The unheard petitions haunted the pastor. “Why did God let my boy die? I have committed my life to serve Him.

Why did He let this happen?” He thought. Three weeks later while the pastor was by himself grieving in his bedroom, he heard a familiar voice. “Dad, it’s me.

Look Dad, I am okay. You do not have to worry about me any longer.” Raising his eyes toward the direction of the voice, he was amazed to see before his very eyes the son he loved.

There he stood in perfect form. “But how can this be my son?

My son is dead,” thought the pastor. Then while a vicious battle raged in his heart—the longing to run and clutch to his bosom his departed son, or believe what he had taught his people about the dead.

Then, a text came to him. “The dead know not anything” (Ecclesiastes 9:5). Pulling his resolve together he demanded, “Get thee behind me Satan.” Immediately at the command of his voice, the apparition disappeared.