When a devastating illness befalls one member of a family, the whole family suffers. In the following story by John Donaldson, it was a devastating illness that, miraculously, healed his entire family. We often moan and groan over what has befallen us until we realize it was all for the best, and that God was taking care of us in His mysterious way.

He was straightening out our lives, as this extraordinary story shows, in ways unimaginable.

“When I was ten years old, I suddenly became stricken with a mysterious sickness. First, my knees began to buckle under me, then they began to swell, and finally I couldn’t walk anymore. I was rushed to the hospital.

“My parents got divorced the year before, and I had been inconsolable. As an only child, the divorce hit me particularly hard. Several medical practitioners could not detect a physical cause of my illness. They suggested it might be the consequence of my parents divorce which resulted in severe psychological underpinnings.

“Both of my parents were also devastated by my mysterious illness. Although I was in my mother’s custody, my father asked if he could visit me regularly at the hospital, and she agreed. The divorce had been bitter, but my mother was so grateful for someone with whom to share her burden — both physical and emotional —that she allowed my father liberties she normally would never have agreed to.

“They decided that a united front was vital and set aside their differences for the sake of my recovery. They achieved an uneasy peace and formed a rapprochement of sorts. I was delighted to see them talking to one another civilly of the first time in months.

“At the beginning of my illness, my parents took turns at my bedside. My mother would sit with me during the day and then immediately leave the moment my father arrived to take over the ‘night shift.’ But after a few weeks, my mother began tarrying a bit and stopped rushing out the door the minute my father made his entrance. Their ‘shifts’ also began to overlap, and they began to spend time discussing my case. When my mother conferred with new doctors, she asked my father to be present during the consultation. Once or twice, they even went downstairs to the hospital cafeteria to share a quick bite together.

“Things got so that when my mother burst into occasional tears — no longer able to restrain or hide her anxiety — my father draped a comforting arm around her.

“After three months in the hospital, I was discharged, and returned home in no better shape than before. Doctors told my parents they had not been able to determine the cause of my mysterious disorder and said, I probably would never be able to walk again.

“Despite this grim prognosis, there was one ray of light in my bleak life. My parents had fallen in love with each other all over again and had decided to remarry. I was overcome with joy.

“Six months after their remarriage I was, mysteriously, able to walk again. I am now sixty one years old and haven’t experienced any difficulty ever since.

“Doctors were never able to solve the mystery of the strange disorder that had befallen me, nor were they able to explain what caused my miraculous recovery. I have always felt, however, that the entire episode was God-ordained, its purpose clear. My parents are of the same opinion.

“Had I not become seriously ill, my parents would never have gotten together again and remarried.

“My providential illness was the spark that reignited their love, and healed our entire family.”