Maura Zagran's Blog

Part 2 of Spirit Daily review of Miracles Every Day

Maura — Thu, 02 Sep 2010 09:34:13 GMT

http://spiritdaily.com/nemeh2.htm

Spirit Daily review of Miracles Every Day

Maura — Thu, 02 Sep 2010 09:31:31 GMT

http://www.spiritdaily.com/nemeh1.htm

TV 5's Tracy Carlos on Miracles Every Day

Maura — Thu, 19 Aug 2010 00:23:16 GMT

http://www.newsnet5.com/dpp/news/local_news/miracles-every-day-soars-on-catholic-best-sellers-list-

Debut at #2

Maura — Wed, 04 Aug 2010 14:00:00 GMT

#2 On The Catholic Bestsellers List

A debutante, I am not. Neither am I a performer. However, I finally know the thrill of making a debut. Six weeks after having been released, my book, Miracles Every Day, made its debut in the #2 slot on the August 1, 2010 Catholic Bestsellers List.

I'm surrounded by best-selling authors. Scott Hahn's Many Are Called (a book that was edited by my very own editor, Gary Jansen of Doubleday Religion) garnered first place. Matthew Kelly, who wrote a beautiful endorsement of my book, has four of his titles represented in the top ten. (I keep worrying that maybe Mr. Kelly regrets having written such an enthusiastic review of my book; after all, Rediscovering Catholicism is in third place behind Miracles.)

While my book, like the Little Engine That Could, was chugging its way into the bestseller list, I have been receiving beautiful letters from all over the country. A letter from Kentucky broke my heart:

I just finished reading your book, Miracles Every Day, and want to thank you for writing this beautiful story. I was diagnosed with cervical cancer three years ago, thought I was cured, but was diagnosed with recurrence two months ago. I have been in a panic since then. I am now praying every day for peace and strength to deal with my disease, and praying to help my husband and daughters deal with it as well. Your book has helped immensely to search for faith and strength.

One of Dr. Nemeh's patients wrote to say:

As I finished the last page of your book, I knew I had to tell you of my gratefulness that you wrote it. I was familiar with most of what you wrote and as I read it I kept thinking, "she is not embellishing--and, how authentic!" I was so grateful for that and have told that to the many people I have encouraged to read it. The rhythm of your writing is truly beautiful.

But my favorite letter was written by a sweet lady in New York, the graceful woman who was my late mother's best friend for more than seventy years and who is my chosen aunt. Aunt Kay Ernst wrote:

After Mass yesterday I decided to read a chapter or two of Miracles Every Day. I put the book down when I finished the last page in time for dinner.

My reaction after "What a great story!" has been "thought-provoking, questioning, and challenging." You did a marvelous job. Thanks to you I once again became aware of the blessings of my faith.

Dear Maura, thank you for the work you did in writing this book.

Please: help me keep the momentum! Call your local libraries. Ask if Miracles Every Day is on the New Arrival shelf, and if it is not, please request that the librarian order it.

Consider giving a copy to those you love as a birthday gift. For friends who are in the hospital or who are facing surgery, give them book and a yellow highlighter in lieu of flowers. The flowers will wilt. This book will do just the opposite: it will blossom and grow.

This is one thing I know for sure: there are two kinds of people in the world. There are those who need a miracle. And there are those who love someone who needs a miracle. What better gift to give them than hope and a blueprint for a richly rewarding relationship with God?

Joseph-Beth Booksellers Signing

Maura — Mon, 05 Jul 2010 08:44:00 GMT

Kathleen

Three years ago, when I began working on Miracles Every Day, I spent many hours in Joseph-Beth Booksellers, Legacy Village, in Beachwood, Ohio. I tracked down quite a lot of information and wrote a number of pages in J-B's cozy restaurant, The Bistro. The store atmosphere is conducive to research and reflection; the food served in the Bistro was wonderful and the waiters uncomplainingly kept my refillable water bottles topped-off; and the staff was as friendly as family. I remember wandering the store, lost in admiration, unable to depart without having bought at least one or two new books each time I was there.

Sometimes I would consider what it would feel like to see my own book on a shelf in a store--even, perhaps, this store!--but I really couldn't wrap my head around that thought very well. It seemed more an out-of-body experience than something that would someday come true. In the meantime, I availed myself of the rich and lively schedule of author discussions as often as I was able. My favorite was the evening I met Karen Joy Fowler, who was there to discuss her marvelous book, The Jane Austen Book Club. I asked Karen if she had considered who would play whom if a movie were made of her book and she appeared to be stunned by my suggestion. "Well, I've never even given that a thought," she said. "Hmmm." And then everyone gathered began offering up their suggestions for who they would choose to play the roles of the various characters in her book. My words proved prescient; a terrific movie was filmed (and Ms. Fowler was involved) and was released in 2007.

Precisely because of this history, it was with great pleasure that I returned to Joseph-Beth on 30 June 2010 for a discussion and book signing. I came with a mini-posse: my loyal friend, Kathy Wainwright, and her daughter, Lauren. Event coordinator Colandra had everything set up beautifully: folding chairs arranged around the fireplace, a podium and microphone, and a signing table. I circled and stared at the arrangement in wonder. Could this be? Could this be for my book?

A rather modest group was assembled at 7:00 P.M. for the start of my discussion, but I didn't care. I was so thrilled for a chance to talk about my book, the journey from writer to author, and Dr. Issam Nemeh. I doubt I'll ever stop feeling pure pleasure at the chance to discuss this book with people who love to read; or people who are searching for a miracle; or people who love someone who needs a miracle; or people of faith; or people who are on a spiritual quest; or just about anyone. I truly believe that books are the keys to so many of the greatest things in life. Books are Free Birds. It is upon the wings of the written word that we are freed to fly in the cloudless climes of imagination, where hopes and dreams know no boundaries. It was easy, then, for me to just chat about Miracles Every Day. I noticed that as I talked, more and more people joined our little group. In time, people who had been on their way to the exit door were standing, fanned out in a semi-circle further back in the store, listening.

A pretty woman with beautiful, platinum-colored hair was seated in the last row of chairs. She held a copy of Miracles Every Day in her hands. Every so often she made eye contact with the front cover and each time she did, she smiled. It was clear to me that this book was important to her. I was intrigued. I wanted to know her story. I maneuvered my talk into an opening in which I could catch her gaze and ask, "What brings you here tonight?"

She glanced shyly down at her book. When she looked up, there were tears in her eyes.

"I was there on the Day of the Ten Thousand," she replied. The tears spilled over.

I felt a familiar melting inside my heart. I had heard so many, many stories from people whose lives had been forever changed by the gentle touch and prayer that had been whispered by Dr. Nemeh. I asked her if she would like to come up to the microphone and share her story with all of us. She nodded. I asked her name.

"Kathleen."

I introduced Kathleen and took a seat at the signing table beside the podium.

She was so overwhelmed at the flood of memories, Colandra had to fetch a box of tissues. But she recovered, and found her voice. She told us that she had somehow been able to get her hands on two tickets to the March 13, 2005 healing service at Saints Peter and Paul in Garfield Heights, Ohio. She said she was in the church for nine hours and yet did not want to leave. She wanted to stay, she said, because it was so plainly obvious that God was there. God, and the Holy Spirit, she said, permeated the grounds. I just nodded. I had heard this many times--even the Pastor, Father Ted Marszal, had said the same thing. According to all accounts, the church and the campus was thick with God, as if God and His action-oriented Holy Spirit were a physical reality, like smoke, or humidity.

Kathleen said she had come in need of nothing in particular. She had no physical ailment that needed healing, "at least," she tacked on, "none that I know of." She alluded to a cogent point: we are not always cognizant of the blessings, healings, and miracles that are bestowed upon us.

The miracle that happened for her was a spiritual awakening. From that day forward she knew the joys of a real relationship with God. Furthermore, her spiritual growth has been incremental and more rewarding each day since. Dr. Nemeh's prayer and being in that church for nine hours, she said, changed her life.

I asked her if she had read the book. She said she had. Then I asked, "What do you think of it?" I'll never forget her answer.

"This book is a prayer," she said, clutching her copy to her breast and looking out at the people seated and standing before her. "It's a beautiful, beautiful prayer."

I'll go with that.

Youtube Video of Launch Event at Barnes & Noble

Maura — Thu, 24 Jun 2010 21:37:56 GMT

Filmed and Edited by Local Superstar

Miles Foisy

Elyria Catholic High School Class of 2010

Launch of Miracles Every Day, Barnes & Noble @ Crocker Park, 15 June 2010

Jim McIntyre's Interview, Part 2

Maura — Sun, 20 Jun 2010 10:30:42 GMT

This is the second of a two-part interview of

Dr. Issam Nemeh and me.

Part 2 of Jim McIntyre's Interview

The interview was conducted by Jim McIntyre in the studios of Cleveland's WDOK 102.1 FM.

Like Part 1, this interview is uncut and unedited, which is, I believe, noteworthy.

I enjoyed the interview experience so very much. In fact, it was a blast!

I'm very grateful to Jim McIntyre, Trapper Jack, and Terry Moir

for making me feel so welcome

and for allowing me the opportunity to articulate answers

to some of the questions people have about Dr. Nemeh

and about Miracles Every Day.

Miracles Every Day is now available at

Maura — Wed, 16 Jun 2010 00:46:18 GMT

Amazon Kindle

Amazon Hardcover

Random House

Audiobook from Barnes & Noble

Barnes & Noble Hardcover

Day #1 - Release Date

Maura — Tue, 15 Jun 2010 12:34:51 GMT

Stone Books

My heart was speaking to me. It told me to ignore the zillion tasks that were squawking at me. It told me, Go home. I lifted my eyes from my work at the computer, gazed out the windows of my study, and saw that my heart was leading me south.

Yes. You are right, I answered. There was something that I needed to do. I decided to follow my heart. And so I walked away from the noise of life for one day.

As soon as I made that decision, of course, many frustrations arose to threaten my journey. They filled me with indecision. Are these omens telling me I should not go? I wondered. Half a dozen times I paused and considered turning back. Each time I decided to stay the course because the first message contained the essence of something we call "purity of heart."

It took many more hours to arrive at my destination than it should have. All along the way I coached myself--and truly believed--that it was all happening as it should. Despite the misgivings that flew at my resolve as if they were angry blackbirds pecking at my face, I felt centered. Calm. Purposeful. I was following my signs. I was ignoring false detours.

At last, I saw the exit to Circleville, Ohio. As I pulled off the highway onto the ramp, my iPod, which is loaded with more than 8,000 songs and which was set on shuffle, began to play "No Regrets" by Tom Rush. I was flooded with emotion. This song is special to me. It always calls up images of my mother as she mourned her husband and the love of her life--the man who was such a magnificent father to me and my siblings. Click here to listen to Tom Rush's lovely ballad.

I drove a few miles ahead. There, on the left, was my destination. The last strains of Rush's song sounded when I flicked on my left turn signal and watched for an opening in the oncoming traffic.

The next song on my iPod began to play as I pulled into St. Joseph's Cemetery. The first line of the lyric of Van Morrison's "Reminds Me Of You" is "I miss you so much . . . " and when I heard it I felt as if I was being body-slammed, as if I was a surfer, and this song was a second wave that was grabbing me and throwing me under a roiling sea of emotion. It was as if Morrison was seconding Rush's motion that this was exactly where I should be. That my heart had been true and I was right to have followed it. I recognized in these two songs a pair of affirming omens. It felt as if the omens themselves were smiling. Click to hear Van Morrison's gorgeous lament.

And so I brought my book to my parents, who always, always believed in me. I laid it just below my mother's name. The floodgates were opened and tears cascaded from my eyes. This was the moment toward which my heart had been leading me. My hands were shaking so much that many petals fell from the peonies I placed in the headstone vase. Two fluttered down and landed upon the cover of my book. I started to move them and then stopped. How appropriate, I thought. Of course there would be two petals that would fall, one touching the other. I left them where they had fallen.

I started talking to my parents. I told them about meeting my Melchizedek and about how kind, generous, and protective he had been toward me. I had heard that Melchizedek was hundreds of years old. Not mine, I told them. My Melchizedek is really quite young. He's very young to be so wise. In fact, my Melchizedek is awesome.

I placed daisies--the flowers that covered their graves so many years ago the day we buried them--in Robby's and Stevie's headstone vases. I talked to them, too. I told them how sorry I was that they had died so young. It's not fair, I sobbed. I've lived so long, and you did not. I'm so sorry because life is so amazing. So incredible. I wish you could have known more of it. But I'm doing what I can to fulfill my personal legend and I hope you're proud of me.

I sat on the grass and had a long talk with my parents. Together, we recounted the jillions and jillions of moments that had led to this day. My parents had been participants in so many of them. Together, we walked down Memory Lane. That walk brought me to a bicycle ride I took one beautiful spring day in Willoughby, Ohio. A two-year-old little tow-head, my firstborn, Brittany, rode in a child's seat behind me. We rode all around Willoughby, enjoying the sunshine. A few days later, Brittany asked, "Mommy, what are those stone books?"

Our daily routine was to either ride the bike, or a tricycle, or sometimes I would push Brittany in her stroller, a few blocks to the library. Back home, we read a pile of books each and every day. So when Brittany asked me this unusual question, I tried to remember which titles were in the stack on the couch. Nothing was clicking. There didn't seem to be a connection there.

Brittany persisted. "Mommy--stone books?"

And then it hit me. On our bike ride earlier that week we had passed by a cemetery. She was right! They were stone books!

And so it seemed to me on this eve of the release of my first book that, somehow, a 29-year-old moment was also part of this moment. The present had gone back, swooped up the past, and returned it to me, so that I could recognize that God really does draw straight with crooked lines. He had been drawing me toward this moment from the beginning. He and His universe had been conspiring to bring me to this day for a very long time.

Paulo Coelho writes in his magnificent The Alchemist that

There is one great truth on this planet: whoever you are, or whatever it is that you do, when you really want something, it's because that desire originated in the soul of the universe. It's your mission on earth . . . The Soul of the World is nourished by people's happiness . . . And, when you want something all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.

So it had. And I feel so blessed.

I introduced my parents and brothers to the best four-legged friend I have ever had, Donovan--the canine companion who has sat beside me every sentence of the way. Donovan sniffed their headstones gently and looked up at me with questioning eyes.

It was hard to say goodbye. I did so with many a backward glance.

But time marches us forward, doesn't it? And God rewards us for trusting in the future. Immediately upon pulling out of St. Joseph's Cemetery I received another message. I turned on my car stereo. Once again, the iPod shuffle found the perfect song for me: Bruce Springsteen's "Working On A Dream." I smiled. It is true. The release of Miracles Every Day is not the fulfillment of a dream; this is one accomplishment in my personal quest. I am still working on my dream. I'm far from finished here. Click here to listen to The Boss singing "Working on a Dream"

And so, today, I am filled with gratitude for everyone who has helped me to fulfill this part of my personal legend. I hope that my first published book gives honor to my parents. I hope that my family and friends know that their love has been the key to my happiness. and that I treasure their love with all my heart.

I am grateful to Kathy and Issam Nemeh for their confidence in my ability to tell their story, and tell it well. This whole project turned on one particular instant in which Kathy Nemeh looked at me and said, "You're the one." I am tremendously grateful for that moment.

Perhaps most of all, however, this moment of tribute belongs to my Melchizedek. It is his voice that held me steady and kept me on course. I was blessed to have God's hand on the wheel and Gary Jansen's on the rudder.

On our journey home, Donovan and I were given one last sign of affirmation. Again listening to my heart, I eschewed the highway for a country road. There were four confounding detours because of that decision. Even so, throughout the twists and turns, I had total confidence that I was where I was meant to be. My trust was rewarded with one final sign of the day. An American bald eagle, huge and majestic, swooped down alongside my car. He looked at me. Then he deigned to alight on a tree stump by the side of the road, allowing me to have a chance to admire him both in full flight and at rest.

Sometimes love and the pursuit of our personal legend is in full flight. Sometimes it is at rest. But, if life and the fulfillment of our chosen destiny becomes what it is meant to be, love is always, always there.

Day #2

Maura — Mon, 14 Jun 2010 00:00:00 GMT

Who Was That?

You have to understand this: I was raised in a Roman Catholic family. I consider myself to be a deeply, but quietly, spiritual person.

However, I have never been comfortable talking The God Talk. I find it much easier to contemplate and relate to God the Father than I do Jesus--perhaps because I had such a wonderful earthly father. I've never really been comfortable saying Jesus' name out loud. As for the Holy Spirit, no one in my life has ever been able to explain that whole concept. Nobody, that is, except Issam. Prayer was more like throwing pennies into a fountain and making wishes than dialoguing with someone I love. I had never read the Bible before beginning work on this book.

I was not seeking anything when I began writing Miracles Every Day. All I wanted to do was write. It just so happened that the opportunity to write about Dr. Issam and Kathy Nemeh's ministry fell into my lap. I remember pacing back and forth the first night I was offered this chance, arguing with myself, But I don't WANT to write someone else's story! I want to write about what is inside of ME! But there it was. An invitation I could not refuse.

This is the context in which I began to learn about Dr. Issam Nemeh.

At 7:00 P.M. on 20 April 2008, Issam and I sat down at his dining room table. I always arrived at our interview sessions ready to listen and go where Issam would lead. This night, he began talking about the connection he feels between himself and his patients. "They don't have to tell me," he said. "I am so concerned with them I can feel the changes.

"It's all about the surrender," he continued. "When we surrender, the Father will be in awe. We will be like the Son to Him."

I asked, "How does a normal person balance surrender with having to make a living in the world?" I was thinking about satisfying my readers' questions--those who would want to know how they might incorporate Dr. Nemeh's type of single-minded focus into their complex, demanding daily lives.

Issam answered, "It depends on the approach to God . . . "

For six minutes shy of three hours, Issam talked and I took down his thoughts, typing furiously. He ranged from one fascinating topic to another. He spoke of faulty approaches to God's challenges, and of the state of mind that enables him to do his work and be a participant in miracles--every day. We talked about sensitive political issues, and about birth and infancy and the innate conflict between the physical experience and our longing to stay connected with God. We talked about angels. He told me about meeting Kathy at a time in his life when he was not searching for anyone. "God had you," he said to himself, forgetting for a moment I was seated beside him. He smiled. "God really had you."

His thoughts were well-formed, clearly communicated, and flowing freely. It was a great interview--a very generous interview. I was focused on my daunting task of capturing his words.

I became aware of something that was breaking through that focus, however. Struggling to retain my focus, I felt the same sensation as waking from a dream that I did not want to end, and so I try to wave away the awakening. The thing that threatened my concentration annoyed me, as if it were an elusive, nearly-invisible gnat dive-bombing my ears. Mentally, I brushed it aside.

But the thing returned. Eventually, I realized that it was not a gnat. It was a fragrance. It billowed and then wafted away, billowed and then wafted away.

I looked at Issam's hands; they were folded neatly on top of the table. I peered beneath the table. Nothing there but our knees and the white cord plugging my MacBook Pro into a wall outlet.

I continued listening, questioning, and typing.

Then I realized that the fragrance seemed to billow most strongly at moments when Issam was speaking about particularly profound issues.

I also understood that, in my past, I had smelled something very similar.

It was not honeysuckle, which always brought memories of my childhood home flooding back to me. A honeysuckle vine grew up a trellis on our back porch. Nothing could make me experience "home" quite like the fragrance of honesuckle on the vine.

My mind searched for an identifying name and found it under Easter: Celebration of the Liturgy; Incense. Indeed, this fragrance smelled just like the incense that priests used when blessing the congregation on Easter morning!

Except . . . there was a qualitative difference. What was billowing and wafting away in the Nemeh dining room was quintessentially gorgeous. Liturgical incense seemed a pale imitation of this. The difference between them was like the difference between old, stale, cheap perfume and the most exquisite French parfum that has been bottled in a crystal vessel so beautiful, it is its own art form. It was like the difference between wild-growing roses and a window box filled with plastic flowers.

This shocking thought made me stop my typing. I looked into Issam's eyes. I thought I saw in them a kind of calm acceptance. Perhaps I was projecting, but it seemed to me that he was fully cognizant of my little struggle. He returned my gaze with equanimity.

I felt confused. I wasn't sure what was happening.

We continued our work without mentioning the fragrance.

My computer indicates that we closed up shop at 9:54 that evening. I popped my head into the family room to say goodnight to Kathy. The two of them walked me to the door. I thanked Issam and headed home.

As I drove away, Issam told Kathy, "Maura got hit really hard tonight."

Two days later, I was pouring over sixteen pages of typed notes that I had spread across my dining room table. My job was to take what I called "Issam-isms" and piece them together. I felt like a quilter, except I was quilting with words and ideas instead of squares of fabric. I realized I was missing some information I needed in order to write a very important transition in an incredibly beautiful scene, the scene where Uncle Eddie dies. (You will read about Uncle Eddie in Miracles Every Day.) I called Kathy.

"Kathy, I need to ask Issam some questions. Could you have him call me in between patients?"

"I can do better than that," she answered. "He's coming home for lunch. The girls are all here. Why don't you just join us?"

In more than a year of working on this book, I had never known Issam to come home for lunch. This is an incredible stroke of luck! I thought. (--Or, it was God moving those chess pieces around on the board. You choose.)

I drove fifteen miles from my house to theirs and joined Kathy, Issam, Fadia, Ashley, and Debbie in a convivial lunch. I was able to take Issam aside and talk with him. When all my questions had been satisfied, Kathy piped up.

"Hey, Maura," she said.

I looked across the room at her. A distinctly mischievous expression played on her face. It's the one that makes people go "Uh-ohhhhh . . . "

Inside, I said, "Uh-ohhhhh . . . " but I maintained enough cool to respond with a very understated, "Yes, Kathy?"

"Why don't you tell the girls what happened the other night?" A big grin spread across her face.

The girls looked at me, curious. I heard them buzzing with queries--"What happened?" What are you talking about?" and so on. But I tuned them out.

Instead, I looked to Issam. He was poised for my three-word question.

"Who WAS that?"

I was not expecting his three-word answer.

"That was Jesus."

Sunday, 13 June WDOK 102.1 FM Jim McIntyre Interview

Maura — Sun, 13 Jun 2010 18:22:14 GMT

http://wdok.radio.com/2010/06/13/dr-nemeh-2/

This is Part One of a two-part interview of Dr. Issam Nemeh and me, Maura, conducted by Jim McIntyre.

This interview is unedited. The tape was just rolling.

You can tell the three of us were enjoying our conversation.

Day #3

Maura — Sun, 13 Jun 2010 00:00:00 GMT

The Divine Experience

Last Monday I met with Ted Henry, TV 5's Emmy-award-winning news anchor, now retired, to give him an advance copy of Miracles Every Day. I felt I owed it to him. After all, in 1994, Ted broke the story of Dr. Nemeh's gift to Northeast Ohio and then continued with follow-up segments in subsequent years. To provide context as to the scope of his in-depth reporting and fascination with the doctor, I will quote Ted, who wrote that he "personally did 36 news stories and aired a prime time documentary twice. I can safely say that this is not just the most reports I have ever done in 44 years as a journalist for a single story, but that the station has ever done for a story like this as well."

Ted and I chatted for an hour and a half. He is well-traveled, curious, open-minded, and fascinating. He says he is as busy in retirement as he ever was during his career. He and his wife, Jody, travel the world in search of spiritually gifted people. He interviews and films them. His profiles are viewed all across the globe, thanks to the Internet. In short, Ted has made the study of spirituality and of spiritually gifted people the focus of his life. (Visit: www.vimeo.com/souljourns)

That is why Ted's reaction to my story of a very special prayer I received from Dr. and Kathy Nemeh means so much to me. The man knows whereof he speaks.

In contrast to thousands of people I observed at the healing services I have attended, I never fell in the spirit. Neither did I feel electricity coursing through my body, as so many reported they feel with the doctor's prayers. But there was one prayer that was spectacularly different. I told Ted about that prayer.

On Sunday, 9 September 2007, I attended an ecumenical healing service at St. Luke Church in Boardman, Ohio. At the end of a twelve-hour day, all of the volunteers lined up to receive their own prayers. I stood in line and held in front of me my open laptop upon which I had posted a photograph of Jim Lyle. Dr. Nemeh pointed his fingers and prayed over Jim's image. Then I closed the computer, handed it to a volunteer, and Dr. Nemeh began praying for me.

I absolutely love the sound of this man's voice when he prays. It is unlike any other voice I have ever heard. I closed my eyes and gave myself up to the enjoyable experience of the sound of his voice. Like most everyone else, I tried to capture his words. I heard a few of them here and there but these were only fragments of the larger supplication he framed on my behalf. It felt as pleasant as a massage. I felt as if I were underwater because the sounds of his prayer were muffled, far away, bendable, wavy, and pretty.

Suddenly, I felt something strong and forceful slam my left shoulder--I may have staggered backward--and I heard Kathy's voice. I know that she did not actually hit me because she has never done that. Like her husband, she is always gentle, almost tender, when she lays hands upon someone. I heard Kathy begin her own prayer for me. I could no more hold onto her words than I can hold a wind-blown wish.

Fully conscious and standing straight up, I experienced time travel.

That night, I wrote a letter to Issam and Kathy. I delivered it to their home the following morning. Below is a portion of that letter:

. . . I feel your four hands on me, and then . . . then a little miracle happens.

The miracle is that I experience the love my parents had for me as a newborn baby. I am in my father's hands, and my mother has now joined him, and I am utterly enveloped in a pure and protective love. I feel almost embryonic. I feel as though your prayers are releasing this memory I have had in my brain and soul since I was days old. It is an ancient, authentic memory.

And yet I feel simultaneously as though I am in an operating room, and surgeons are bending over me and murmuring about something, and I hear their words floating in and out of my consciousness, but I cannot catch the essence of what they are saying, only the sound of the words. I sense their concern and their dedication to my healing.

Finally, as your voices wind down to the end of the "song" (for that is what it was for me) I hear Kathy say something about ". . . and all the love she has in her heart and all the love she shows to others . . . "

Suddenly, an insight on a new level comes to me.

The insight was this: I was transported into a completely new universe of Infinite Love. In that instant I knew that I knew the feeling of being held in God's loving embrace.

Months later, I read the marvelous Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. In her book, she writes, "I am suddenly transported through the portal of the universe and taken to the center of God's palm."

Ah-ha! I thought when I read that sentence. We have been to the same place!

Sitting beneath an umbrella on the patio of a coffee shop and listening to my story, Ted Henry recognized the magnitude of my experience. That is why he expressed his joy for me. I had what people all over the world spend their lives seeking and what is known by various names: the turiya state, the Divine Experience, the Divine Moment, and Divine Bliss.

What I can add to the mountain of literature that struggles to express the inexpressible is that I felt truly loved in those moments. I felt as though a Greater Being--a Source Being--was pouring a perfect syrup of love all over me. I felt it dripping down my essence and I relished its sticky, caramel-like texture. I was encased in Love. It was unlike anything I had ever felt in my entire life.

I was aware of forming a vow to myself: I will do whatever it takes to live in this Love for eternity.

Kathy and Dr. Nemeh fell silent. I remained standing for a moment or two before opening my eyes. I walked calmly to a chair and lowered myself into it. I marveled that Love was still being actively poured all over me.

I closed my eyes in an effort to try to hang on to the feeling. At precisely the instant I tried to hang on, it slipped away.

I remember that sensation as if the moment of separation were itself a departed loved one. Like an unrequited love, I can't stop thinking about it. It was so beautiful.

I now know what it feels like to be held in the palm of God's hand. I was left with a residue of confidence that there is no separation between God and me. We became one because He enfolded me into His being. He melted His Love over me, which melded us into one.

Faith was no longer just a word for me--it became noun and verb and adjective all at once. It was both a physical sensation and a divine promise. I had felt in every atom of my being "one-ness" with a Promise-Maker I could trust in a completely new way. In fact, I realized, I could en-trust everything to Him.

And so I did. I placed my life, my hopes, my dreams, my family, and my love into His keeping.

I was rewarded with serenity. My soul became like a sailboat drifting on placid waters beneath a starry, moonlit sky. I understood something huge: My soul is the vessel. I am merely the cargo.

Day #4

Maura — Sat, 12 Jun 2010 00:34:00 GMT

Just Another Day at the Office

In early August 2009, Sharon Deitrick brought her sister, Cookie, to Dr. Nemeh's office for an acupuncture treatment. Cookie, who lives in Washington, D.C., received a prayer in absentia weeks earlier. Simultaneously with that prayer being prayed in Akron, Ohio, Cookie began a steady rebound from what appeared to be imminent death. Now recovered enough to travel from her home to Ohio, Cookie was anxious to meet this physician about whom her sister thought so highly.

I saw over and over again in the course of my work that other friends often tagged along with the patient. Sometimes it was just to keep the patient company. But often, there was another reason. It seems that the word has gotten around about the doctor's spontaneous prayers.

I had talked to the doctor about this. He told me he felt it was important to be asked, or invited in, before praying over someone. However, this was at odds with the way he was led by the Spirit to pause and pray over those who were simply placed in his path. Many times, people seated in the treatment room were surprised to find themselves the object of his prayerful attention. This night, Sharon and Cookie would see him pray over a friend, Suzanne, who had waited patiently just to be able to "meet" the doctor. And, she hoped, if she got lucky, she would get a prayer from him.

Sharon, Cookie, a co-worker/friend named Joe Kuty, and Suzanne sat chatting quietly in the waiting room while the doctor finished up with another patient. Kathy Nemeh bounced between the scheduling desk and the waiting room to talk with everyone. The atmosphere felt happy.

Sharon was still euphoric from the miracle that happened to her in July--you will read about it in Miracles Every Day. In the course of writing my book, I selected one question to ask every interviewee: "Who is Dr. Nemeh to you?" When I asked Sharon this question, she didn't hesitate. It was almost as if she had been waiting for me to ask the question.

"Dr. Nemeh is an extraordinary physician who brings the art of medicine into the great depth of faith and spirituality. To me, that's so much more than a doctor. To have somebody be able to recognize that his ability is limited, but that if he surrenders to that, then the fruit of his humility is manifested in miracle upon miracle. I am living testimony to that."

Joe, sitting near us, nodded his head. "I want everybody in my life to experience him," he added. Then Joe told me the personal experience that has led him to feel this way.

Joe was a witness to Sharon's miraculous acupuncture/prayer session with the doctor. Joe told me that the doctor invited him back. Joe recalled, "Dr. Nemeh said to me, 'Come back here again. You will be transformed.' The reason I did make an appointment is that I was a witness to Sharon's miracle. People have to see it for themselves. I was not skeptical. God manifests His power through Dr. Nemeh, who takes no credit for one miracle after another."

Joe suffers from a hearing deficit. He hoped that his hearing would be corrected at his appointment. Much to his surprise, he got a "heeling" of a different kind.

Twenty-five years earlier, Joe tumbled out of a garage attic and fell to the cement flooring below. He suffered many injuries, the most severe of which was that the bones in his right foot were shattered beyond repair. "The doctors did the best they could. But I've been arthritic, and it's been very painful. The result of the injury to my foot is that my spinal column was damaged, with one leg shorter than the other. I wore my shoes down unevenly and walked on the sides of my feet. All these years, my left foot has been trying to compensate." Joe had not told Dr. Nemeh about the accident or the injury.

Dr. Nemeh intuited the old injury and went straight to work on his left foot. "He started praying," Joe told me. "He held his fingers three inches above my foot. My toes started rising up. The bones were growing. My leg was stretching. I felt a tingling sensation. 'Alright,' he said. 'That foot is fine now.' As he was moving his fingers to the right foot, I felt a jolt in my leg. My leg had been swollen for twenty-five years. 'Look,' said the doctor. 'The swelling is going down.' And it was.

"Dr. Nemeh told me, 'God has restored your feet to their original condition.' When I got out of the chair my feet were both flat on the floor for the first time since the accident. My feet were aligned. I have had no leg pain since then. No pain at all.

"He goes where the Spirit tells him to go. He just seems to know where the problem is. He said he sees the healing before people feel it. My back even feels better now."

Sharon piped up at this point. She told me that she joined Joe mid-way through the treatment session. "Dr. Nemeh," she inquired, "Joe came here for his hearing but you went to his foot. Why?"

Dr. Nemeh's answer was something I have heard him say many times.

"The Holy Spirit tells me where to go. If you become one in the Spirit with Christ, then you move with the Spirit. I see the beauty of the person the way they are meant to be. If they are open to love then God will do great things with them."

At this point in Joe's story, Dr. Nemeh opened the door to the treatment room and stepped into the waiting room. He was taken aback by all the people gathered there. His eyes roved around the room and he greeted those he already knew. Pausing at Suzanne, Sharon performed the introduction. Suzanne stood to shake the doctor's hand.

His face spread into a reluctant grin. He knew what she was about here.

Without saying a word, he extended his hands over her and began to pray.

It was a long, long prayer. Over in the corner, Cookie began to grumble a bit. "Hey," she muttered. "I'm the patient. Me. I'm over here." Sharon shook with muffled laughter at her cranky sister.

The doctor went into his zone. As he prayed, Suzanne began to exclaim that things were changing inside her. She could feel them realigning. Her back pain was receding even as we sat there watching. Her amazement and joy was heartwarming to witness. She confessed to all of us that she came to the office that night secretly harboring hopes that he would pray over her. She did not have the money to pay for an appointment, she said, and her medical insurers would not reimburse her for acupuncture treatments.

If there is one thing that has made me angry in the course of writing this book, it is this state of things with medical insurers. Untold thousands of dollars could have been saved by allowing patients to choose acupuncture rather than surgery, physical therapy, and extensive drug regimens. It's an outrage. The American Medical Association would do well for themselves and for all of us to abandon their archaic, outmoded, jealous exclusion of acupuncture, masso-therapy, and other non-reimbursed methods of treatment.

The doctor prayed over Suzanne for probably fifteen minutes before dropping his arms. Aiming a smile all around the room, he indicated that he would be stepping into the third room of his suite, the room that serves as lounge and scheduling office. Suzanne, still overcome with stunned happiness, tried to thank him.

"Don't thank me," he told her. "Thank Jesus."

And that, my friends, is a pretty typical scene at Dr. Issam Nemeh's office.

Day #5

Maura — Fri, 11 Jun 2010 11:34:21 GMT

11 June 2010

http://wdok.radio.com/2010/06/11/miracles-everyday-part-2/

This is the second installment in a two-part interview conducted in the broadcasting studios of WDOK 102.1 FM in Cleveland, Ohio. Trapper Jack, Jim McIntyre, and Terry Moir interviewed Dr. Issam Nemeh and me.

Day #6

Maura — Thu, 10 Jun 2010 13:13:32 GMT

This is a link to the WDOK 102.1 FM interview of Dr. Issam Nemeh and me,
conducted by Trapper Jack, Jim McIntyre, and Terry Moir.

This interview aired on 10 June 2010.