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I was leaning on the piano in the front of our sanctuary when Danny, one of our youth leaders came up next to me.  Danny is one of the funniest people I know and we always have lots of laughs when we get together.  After a good bear hug, he leaned on the piano and winced in pain. 

"What's wrong?"  I asked.

"I think I may have just broken my wrist," he said, half laughing.

I grabbed his wrist and half sarcastically said, "In Jesus name, be healed."  And I let go of his wrist.  I said, "How is it?" fully believing that the prayer I had just offered was more worthy of lightening bolts than an answer.

He kind of rotated it a bit.  Then he looked at me funny and said, "that's wierd...the pain is completely gone."

We kind of stood there laughing in amazement for a while.  He kept rotating his wrist.  I kept saying, "Did that really just happen?"

He went on to tell me that he was in the foyer trying to master his Bruce Lee 3-inch punch on another youth worker when he hurt his wrist.

Everything about this interaction was strange.  From how the injury occured to how it was healed was unorthodox, to say the least. 

Mom says I shouldn't say Jesus' name sarcastically.  I think I believe her now.