The Boy Who Came Back From Heaven Part 9

Jay was a friend of ours, a man of prayer, and a man of wisdom on spiritual matters. He really knew how to pray.

"Yes, Daddy, call Jay."

Jay was quick to pick up the line.

"Jay, it's Kevin. Listen, I've got a situation with Alex. He's being attacked by the devil, and he can't call out to Jesus. Would you pray with him?"

"Of course, let's pray."

I held the phone to Alex's ear, and in moments an amazing transformation took place before my eyes. The tension slowly loosened and melted away. The color gradually seeped into his cheeks. The fright in his eyes mostly melted away. As I thanked Jay and hung up the phone, Alex smiled. He looked at me and said, "I can say His name now. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus! Jesus. Jesus. Jesus!"

I laughed, held his hand, and we said Jesus' name together several times. No name has ever sounded more beautiful. We relaxed, joked around, and made small talk for fifteen minutes, but then things took another ominous turn. The fright had returned to Alex's eyes.

"Alex, are you all right? Is it the same thing as before?"

He signaled yes.

"Do you want Daddy to call Jay again?"

"No, Daddy. I want just us to do it."

"Well, then, that's what we'll do, Alex. Let's you and me start praying, okay?"

+ + +Alex asked me if I was mad at him for being tempted by Satan, and Itold him that the devil only messes with people who are a threat to him. Alex is one giant threat to the evil one, and we need to continually pray for him.PrayforAlex.com post by Kevin Malarkey on August 9, 2005+ + + For about an hour, the two of us pet.i.tioned G.o.d, talked quietly together for an interval, prayed a bit more, then talked some more. By a quarter after ten that night, Alex was all right again, and we slept peacefully together at the hospital.

The following morning, the phone began to ring.

"h.e.l.lo, Kevin, this is Jay. I have a question. Was there another satanic attack against Alex?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," I said. "How did you know?"

He said, "Did it end at 10:15?"

"That's exactly when it was over," I answered. "Tell me what's going on. How did you know all this?"

"After Alex and I prayed over the phone," he said, "I felt that I needed to keep praying. I was down on the floor, on my face, talking to the Lord. I was lifting up Alex and praying against Satan for at least an hour. In my spirit, I looked up and saw the feet of G.o.d before me. I looked up farther and saw that G.o.d was seated on the throne, holding a scepter. Then I heard His voice say, 'It is finished.' At that point I stopped praying and went to bed. It was 10:15."

Later I thought through all the events of that day, from church in the morning to the intensity of the spiritual warfare I encountered in my son's hospital room. What if I had ignored that still, small voice telling me that Alex would be healed and that I should go to the altar and call the church to pray on this matter? What if our friend Mary Lou hadn't suggested we pray against Satan? As a result, we had the power of the church's prayer working for us when the satanic attack came. When Jay, Alex, and I all prayed for that hour, G.o.d finally said, "It is finished." And it was-for that day, anyway.

What if I had just slept late that day? What if any of us had simply ignored the urgings inside us? What if our minds had been elsewhere or we had refused to acknowledge what was clearly G.o.d's voice? Would it have gone worse for my son? I don't know the answer to this question, but that day persuaded me how important it is to listen and obey when G.o.d calls.

Going Off Road Even when we arrived home, our needs were lovingly met, day by day, and there's no better example than the way they helped us strengthen our "fortress"-our home base.

Getting Alex in or out of the house was problematic. There were four steps to the front door and three to the garage. Moving Alex about, as light as he was, involved lifting both him and his chair about three feet off the ground.

A ramp was the obvious solution, but we couldn't figure out where to put it or how to design it in accordance with our home's layout. We were also a little uncomfortable with giving in to a permanently installed ramp-it felt like surrender, a resignation that G.o.d would never heal Alex. We said okay to the ramp, but we called it a "bike ramp." After all, there was no doubt that our kids would use it thatway.

That's where our friend Wayne came in.

Wayne had a creative vision. He figured out an angle from the house to the driveway, just to the left of a large tree. For safe use with the wheelchair, the ramp would have to decline one inch per foot. The total drop, we knew, would come out to thirty-nine inches. When we measured, the length of Wayne's proposed ramp was exactly exactly thirty-nine feet-just as if G.o.d had intervened in the original building of our house thirty years ago to make a perfect place for it. I think He probably did. thirty-nine feet-just as if G.o.d had intervened in the original building of our house thirty years ago to make a perfect place for it. I think He probably did.

Alex could get in and out now without the heavy lifting. The next thing we needed was to be able to get him down to the lower level of our house. The problem was that our only access to that floor was by a spiral staircase. Since we have a walkout bas.e.m.e.nt, it made sense to build a sidewalk that would connect to the ramp at the driveway.

We were able to have some fun with the sidewalk, because there are few limitations in how you can build it in a rural setting. We scrawled our kids' names and the date in the wet cement. Then, as a final touch, Beth wrote, "With G.o.d all things are possible."

We believe that, by the way. We believe that one day Alex will step right over that verse as he walks along the pavement.

Yet the problems continued. A friend of ours checked the plumbing and was appalled by what he found. The pipes were a mess, and there was no water filtration system. He wouldn't fix the plumbing without a water-conditioning system, which would cost about five thousand dollars.

I sighed heavily at the thought of another huge expense. Apparently I hadn't learned my lesson. The friend shoved a piece of paper into my hand. "Here, call this number and pick out the system you want," he said. "Don't worry about the price."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, I've prayed about this thing," he said. "I feel that G.o.d is asking for my credit card on this expenditure. The full amount." He expressed his confidence that G.o.d would supply the money by the time the credit card bill came due.

It was another beautiful gift, one that was entirely essential to our needs due to the decrepit condition of the plumbing in the house.

We met with the company and chose the most basic model. Our friend, however, would not accept that. He upgraded the order to the more expensive model, one with extra features. He was confident about what G.o.d wanted him to do. And sure enough, it turned out that a customer returned the exact model two days after purchase, unused, and we received the returned unit at a huge discount.

A few weeks later, I was sitting in a church service. Two of the three morning announcements concerned Alex. The first of these was a simple update on his progress and a request for people to keep praying for our family and ministering to us. The second was an in-depth story about our plumbing. It's humbling to hear every challenge of your family life shared before a congregation. One of the best proofs of G.o.d's existence is the love we see among His people.

The speaker said, "As you know, the Malarkeys are having a system installed for softening the water. A Columbus friend put $4,200 on his credit card and trusted G.o.d for the funding within thirty days. This past Friday the bill came due, and on Monday we had only collected $1,300. We didn't announce this, but simply trusted G.o.d to supply the need.

"On Friday, the total we had collected was $5,200. The company was paid in full, and as for the balance-Kevin, if you're present today, please see the pastor after the service. He has a check for your family in the amount of $1,000."

Naturally, that money was another gift from G.o.d, used to pay bills and buy equipment that Alex needed. We also were finally able to get a power wheelchair that would allow Alex to drive himself around using a control he operated with his chin. Once we were able to get it, Alex gained a sense of autonomy in moving around without having to be dependent upon others. If he wanted to go to the next room, he could do it. If he wanted to move to the end of our driveway, he could.

As long as we were all careful, this new freedom was a wonderful thing for Alex.

Let's Roll!

G.o.d met every one of our needs and so much more. One of the most basic needs, transportation for our family, however, continued to be a juggling act. The pattern of our family life and our unique challenges made going to church difficult, at best. As much as we desired to be able to go places as a family, we simply couldn't.

When another Easter Sunday came and we were unable to go to church as a family, I was very discouraged. Easter is my favorite day on the calendar, but we had no way to transport Alex to church. His power wheelchair, great as it is, requires a van with sufficient s.p.a.ce and special equipment to secure it while driving.

As I sat at home on Easter feeling unhappy, the phone rang. Beth picked it up and I heard her say, "Hi, Suzanne."

Suzanne, a speech therapist, had done a swallow test for Alex several months earlier. At that point, it had been a year since Alex had eaten on his own. The doctors had told us he would never be able to do so again, due to his inability to swallow. So this was another goal, another area for G.o.d to speak in and to drown out the doctors' declarations of the impossible.

Alex, Beth, and I made an elaborate list of the first fifty things Alex would eat when he could, the first of them being Mr. Sullivan's gravy. He was a friend who had made a dish for us with wonderful gravy. I put a dab of it on Alex's tongue and then wiped it away. It was a swallow test, one he pa.s.sed, and it made Suzanne a hero in ourfamily.

As Beth continued to speak with Suzanne, tears began to flow down her cheeks. What was going on? Beth was crying about a swallow test? After Beth hung up, she explained.

Suzanne had told her pastor at Christ Our King Church, Robin Ricks, that she knew a family who needed a van. That very morning, before the Easter service started, Pastor Ricks had stood on the platform and said, "Friends, the Lord spoke to me this morning while I was praying. Would you like to hear what He has laid upon my heart? It's about a little boy whom I've never met. His name is Alex Malarkey, and he was severely injured in an automobile accident. This boy loves the Lord, but he can't go to church without the kind of van that will accommodate his wheelchair. He has other places he needs to go too.

"As I prayed this morning, I saw a picture in my mind of Alex looking out the window of a van, on his way to worship G.o.d. I also felt a strong impression that, even though I drove here this morning, I would not look out the windshield of my own car again until I promised to see that the money is raised for that little boy and his family to have a van. It's very clear to me what G.o.d wants us to do this morning as an act of obedience. Let's buy that family the van itneeds."

+ + +I often tell others about how Christ Our King Church raised the money for a van in less than thirty minutes on Easter Sunday. They did not even know the boy or realize that the accident had occurred right in front of their church.Dr. William Malarkey, Kevin'sfather+ + + He explained that this special collection would not preempt the church's regular offering-that would be at the normal time, and folks would give their t.i.thes and offerings as usual. Donations for Alex would be separate. The giving for the van started, and within five minutes, a group of fewer than four hundred people had raised eighteen thousand dollars. Not a single one of them had met Alex... as far as I knew.

Examples of sacrificial giving were everywhere in evidence that day. One young man, fifteen-year-old Eric, had been working for friends of his parents but hadn't yet received his wages. After hearing what Pastor Ricks said, he found the woman he had worked for in the lobby of the church and asked her to write the check, making the entire amount payable to the van fund. There were many other stories of giving from the heart. When that money arrived, we were absolutely stunned, and we're still thanking G.o.d.

Reenlisting It was fun to look out the window and see the new van parked in our driveway. What an amazing gift from G.o.d, through His people. Beth and I were eager to meet the pastor who had said he had heard from G.o.d on our behalf. Accepting our invitation for a visit, he came to the house. Over the course of getting to know each other, I asked a typical question: "Where's your church located?"

"It's at the intersection of Route47 and Route9."

+ + +When I first met Alex, I realized that he was a young kid who had a strong sense of who G.o.d is. It was really evident that his faith was strong. I never remember feeling bad for him. AsI was communicating with Alex, I could just sense the presence of G.o.d with him in his smiles, in his questions-and, boy, did he have a lot of questions.

Pastor Robin Ricks, Christ Our King Church

My heart skipped a beat. "That's where the accident was, Pastor."

His eyes were large. Maybe he thought this was an awkward development, something that might bring us pain. But it wasn't, of course. We don't curse that location, but see it as a place where G.o.d's destiny took an amazing turn in our lives-one filled with pain and uphill struggles, but one destined to glorify His name and ultimately bless our family.

Pastor Ricks spoke to Alex for some time, and the two of them hit it off. I was fascinated, and (to be honest) just a little bit awed by the way the two of them talked about the unseen world-the realm of angels and demons and spiritual warfare. It was clear that these two were kindred spirits, who had both notched some experience in that world.

We felt an amazing bond with this man. Before he left, he asked if he could pray with us. That's the normal way to finish a pastoral visit. But there was nothing normal about this prayer. Pastor Ricks spoke to G.o.d with an incredible intimacy, reflecting the relationship he clearly had with the Lord. His words reflected authority and humility at the same time. It was one of the most amazing moments of spiritual communion with G.o.d that I've ever experienced.

We were delighted to have a new friend in Christ, especially someone who could stand beside us in the trenches of spiritual warfare. We didn't see Pastor Ricks again until two years later, when we visited Christ Our King Church for a Sat.u.r.day afternoon children's activity. The moment we walked into the church, we felt the presence of G.o.d's Spirit in a palpable way. Immediately we wanted to be a part of it, and before we left that afternoon, I looked at Beth and said, "Are we going to...?"

"Yes!" she said quickly, with a big smile.

The next morning we attended worship at Christ Our King Church and have been regular attendees ever since. We've stayed close to our "old" church family-those wonderful folks will be our friends for life-but G.o.d was moving us onward, reenlisting us in a new unit, if you will. Over time, G.o.d puts us in different settings with different groups of people. I think the dynamic of Christ Our King Church was exactly what He knew would minister to us at this point in our lives, when we had so many needs. And of course, we hope we can minister to these people in return.

In 2008, near Christmas, a team from Christ Our King Church came over to install new flooring in Alex's bedroom. Sometime during the day, one of the workers approached me and said, "You don't know me, but we go way back ... about four years."

My mind raced a little trying to place him.

"Have we met before?"

He held out his hand. "Dan Tullis," he said as he shook mine and nodded. "Well, yes, but you might not remember. It was on the day of your accident. We hadn't been home from church that long when we heard this deafening crash. I ran to the intersection, just a couple hundred feet from our house. When I got there, I climbed into the backseat with Alex. I prayed over him and tried to comfort him, even though I didn't know if he was alive. I stayed there until the paramedics arrived. He wasn't breathing, that I could tell."

"And here you are, four years later, working on my house and telling me this. And did you say that you were a member of Christ Our King at the time?"

"Yes. When our church family helped buy the van, I had no idea who it went to until you came to church a couple of years later."

"So we've been going to the same church for a while now, but you never approached me with this story?"

"This just seemed like the right time, I guess!"

"Dan, thank you so much for your ministry to Alex."

"You bet, brother."

I had now met two people sent by G.o.d to the scene of the accident to pray for Alex in the most amazing, "serendipitous" ways. I serve an awesome G.o.d!

Heavenly Languages When it's time for him to sleep, we often place a sheet over Alex's face. He likes to sleep in total darkness. One evening after Alex had been asleep for quite a while, strange noises came from under the sheet. Looking up from what I was reading, I laughed. Was this Alex's way of saying, "Could you open the curtain for me, please?" Pulling the sheet back, I was surprised to see that Alex was still sleeping, yet the unfamiliar sounds continued. Was this some new way of snoring? I began to listen closer. There was a pattern, a cadence to the sounds he was making, like a garbled dream or mumblings from another language.

He was in no discernible stress, so I didn't wake him. The murmurings continued. About ten minutes later Alex opened his eyes wide.

"Daddy, I was just talking to G.o.d in Heaven."

"Were you really, Alex?" I asked. "That's pretty cool, because we could hear you speaking-it sounded strange!"

"You could hear me?" he asked with surprise.

"Yes. It sounded like words from a language I don't know."

A few minutes later, he drifted off to sleep again, and the strange sounds resumed. Aaron, who was seven, walked into the room. One look at Alex and he began laughing. Then he realized that Alex was asleep.

Alex was awake again a few minutes later with Aaron sitting next to him.

"What were you doing?" Aaron asked, a little unsure.

"I was talking to G.o.d in Heaven," he said. "It's in another language."

Not long ago, Alex made another surprise announcement: "There's a spirit here, in the bedroom, but I can't tell what kind of spirit it is."

Since his otherworldly experiences had begun, Alex had always known an angel from a demon. But this time was different.

"Well, what does it look like?" I asked.

"Like you," he answered.

This caught me off guard, so I laughed. "Got to be an angel, then," I said, smiling.

But Alex wasn't laughing. His brow was wrinkled.

"Why don't you use your Heaven language and ask?" Aaron suggested.

Alex thought for a moment, then turned to Aaron and said, "Do you promise not to laugh?"

Aaron gave a very solemn promise. I shook my head in wonder at this conversation between a nine- and an eleven-year-old.

"Would you cover my face?" Alex asked.

Soon after Aaron placed the sheet back over his face, the language from Alex's earlier sleeping experience was audible once again. He continued speaking in his "Heaven language," as Aaron had called it, and then he fell silent. After a moment, Alex's normal voice asked us to pull back the sheet.

"It was an angel," Alex said. "He came here to comfort me. He touched my head."

Ongoing Angels We've had these little adventures from time to time, but the presence of angels has been a consistent reality. From the time of the accident, Alex says, the angels have graced our home. Up to the time he was about eight-the period of Alex's most serious physical struggle-there was a particular group of angels that would surround his bed in our master bedroom.