I am a living testimony to being raised from the dead. When I was 8 months old I contracted a virus of some kind that left me very weak and with a high fever. My father is a baptist pastor for some 60 years now. The story that has been related to me by my parents and others who were in attendance :

On a Sunday night in 1953 my mother stayed home from church because I had been ill for several days. At the time my father was the pastor of the Highland View Baptist CHurch in Trussville, Al. When my father came home from chruch my mother told him that I was not doing well. As they came in to check on me they noticed I was having convulsions, they rushed me to the Pell City, AL. hospital where they were met by our family physican of many years, who in fact had delivered my father years before, his name was Dr. Martin. When I arrived at the hospital, Dr. Martin was there to greet my parents and me. Dr. Martin, along with his attending nurse, rushed me in to the emergency room, but after a few minutes came out and told my parents that I had died. My mother resigned to this fact began to make funeral arrangements, family and friends were called and many from my church came to the hospital to comfort my family. My father though did not believe I was dead. He told Dr. Martin that God had told him that I would live and not die. Dr Martin tried to comfort my father, passing of my Dad's denial of death as that of a young father greiving. As time wore on, about an hour or so, my Dad was making a nuisance of himself by loudly declaring to anyone who would listen that I was not dead. Finally Dr. Martin pulled my dad aside and told him "Billy I can prolong life but I can not give it, accept the fact your son is dead." Mainly to humour my mother and father he took them back into the room where my body was draped with a sheet. Dr Martin then did something very unorthodox medically, he was going to prove to my parents that I was dead. Later he said he thought by doing so it would help them accept my death. The Dr. pulled the sheet down from my face and held a mirror in front of my nostrils-no breath, he pulled up my flesh and it stayed in a doughy heap, he put a stethoscope to my chest-no heartbeat. He turned to my parents and said "see, there is no life here". My Dad pleaded with Dr.Martin- "but God said he is going to live and not die." Finally exasperated by my dad's protestations- he took a needle filled with saline solution and stuck it in my heel, when Dr. Martin did this I let out a cry- Dr. Martin turned as white as the coat he was wearing, my parents just began to thank God, Dr. Martin said it was too early to tell, that if I lived I would have massive brain damage. I am now 44 years old, married, father of 2, in bussiness for myself, in short ,very normal and thankful to God. The last thing that the good Dr. said before he passed on to be with the Lord was, "How is that Walker boy doing? I know I have seen a miracle, take care of that child." Praise God, He is taking care of me!

Humbly in Christ,

Bruce Walker

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