God, Why Don't You Hear Their Prayer?

I nearly died of food poisoning on one of my trips to China. I was so weak I could hardly find my way to a public restroom were the toilet is simply a hole in the floor and many are so filthy it is almost impossible to breathe. I stumbled into one, fell to the floor and began vomiting. Vaguely I remember someone coming in and asking if I needed help. I had Christian literature in my pockets and knew I would be in big trouble if it was found on me. Somehow I communicated this to the person and he dug in my pockets and disposed of the literature. As I wobbled in and out of consciousness, I hazily remember someone picking me off the floor and saying I was dying. I was carried to a bus and taken to the nearest hospital.

When I came to, I didn't know where I was. Repulsed by the rusty intravenous needle I saw sticking into my arm and ants crawling in my bed. I began to remember the bathroom floor and realized I was in a Chinese hospital.

Later I was told the medical personnel were unable to detect a pulse when I was brought in. Deathly ill and half a world away from home. I struggled to rise above the waves that threatened to take my life. Why would God allow this to happen?

Grappling to retain consciousness, I realized I had not been alone as I fought through the night. Mr. Wong, a confirmed atheist, had debated the existence of God throughout our entire trip. There were times he vehemently told me I was a fool for believing in God. But that night Mr. Wong remained at my bedside placing a cool towel on my forehead to keep the fever down. I made an effort to thank him for his love and concern. "I thought I was going to die."

"Tom, you weren't going to die. I saw God with you."

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God, Why Don't You Hear Their Prayer?