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In December 2007, on a Sunday morning, I realized something was not right with my son. I called my husband and we took him to the emergency room. By the time we got to the Emergency room, things had changed. The emergency team took him from us and the running began. We were told our son was in a coma and needed to be transferred to the critical care unit where the neurologist and his team were waiting. “Are you kidding me?” I kept asking. “This cannot be true,” I told my husband. “I must be dreaming,” I said. “Please, tell me I am dreaming,” I said crying. When we got to the critical care unit, I could not recognize my son, with all the tubing and IV’s connected to him. Like any caring parent, I was devastated. It was around Christmas, with everyone in a festive mood. Still lost in my thoughts when a doctor introduced himself as my son’s pediatrician. I was happy that this doctor will be able to answer all my questions. A few minutes into our conversation, I realized my spirit was rejecting what this doctor was sharing as he was saying things contrary to what I believed in. He was making a prediction that I refused to receive, as a child of God.

After all the commotion, I settled in my son’s hospital room, not knowing what to do. Prayer I know is an option, but at that moment, I was very emotional and drowning in self-pity. Eventually, I snapped out of my pity party realizing I was the only guest and no one was interested in attending it with me. I prayed and at the end of my prayers, I decided to call Pastor Matthew. A few minutes later, my phone rang and as a result of the distraction, I forget to call Pastor Matthew.

By day five of my son being in a coma, and trying to hold on to what was left of my faith, I called Brother Matthew. He was at work but told me he will come to see me. A few hours later, he arrived and I jumped in excitement. I just knew within me that The Lord would do something through His anointed servant. Pastor Mathew said God had given him some instructions. I noticed that he did not get close to my son. Yet later, he approached him and held my son in his right hand and asked me to hold him on the other side of the bed. My faith was strong that something unique and supernatural was going to happen. My husband, my Pastor, Pastor Matthew and I, were all in the intensive care unit with my son. Pastor Matthew shared some instructions, as revealed to him by God. We started to pray and about forty-five minutes into the prayers, I heard my son sneeze. I opened my eyes and then he sneezed again. Then Pastor Matthew said I should go and touch my son’s feet with my palms and we continued praying. Then I noticed that my son opened one eye, and then the other eye. I was so happy jumping up while Pastor Matthew kept thanking God because He answered him. That’s how my son came back to me.


Testimony from Dr. Abiola, Mullica Hill, NJ