“I see a miracle!” the secret policeman kept saying softly so no one else could hear. It was awkward, as I was the team leader for this trip to Vietnam in 1999. My first trip was in 1989. We all knew he was a “secret policeman.” Our vehicle had made the obligatory stop to pick up a man who was supposed to be a local guide.

We were heading to a Montagnard village near Khe Sahn. This was the site of a battle during the Vietnam War where 6,000 Marines held off more than 30,000 North Vietnamese troops for 77 days. Montagnards are an ethnic group made up of 12 different tribals. After moving out of the area during the war because of heavy fighting, they had since moved back. They were poor and heavily discriminated against by the communists.

I smiled again at the policeman as we approached the spot where we stopped and hiked the rest of the way to the main tribal village. This trip included my family, which was our second trip together. In 1989, I could not bring my family to this area. It was not safe, and we had no access to safe drinking water.

As we approached the village, Jim, the leader of a previous team, told us a tragic story that happened when they visited six months earlier. The village chief’s brother-in-law had been hoeing a garden when he hit a grenade buried in the ground. It exploded, seriously wounding him. It occurred just a day before they arrived. The village chief rushed them to the home, high on stilts, where the man lay on a mat, obviously dying. There were no medical facilities anywhere nearby and none available for the “minorities,” as the Vietnamese called them.

Jim told us the guy was critical. The village chief knew we were Christians, and he asked us to pray for him. The team dutifully knelt on the floor around the man and prayed as the family watched. After passing out food, medicine, and small gifts for the children, the team sadly got back in the van, knowing the man was going to die.

Jim wrapped up the story as we entered the village when pandemonium broke out. People were excited when suddenly the village chief was in our midst shouting out orders. As we stood there trying to figure out what was happening, the policeman whispered again, “I see a miracle!”

After a few moments, the crowd parted for a young man who came up and stood by the village chief. Jim, the former team leader, looked at me in disbelief and said, “That’s him!” That’s who? I asked. “That’s the village chief’s brother-in-law,” he said. The police officer excitedly kept saying, “I see a miracle!” Standing before me was a young man with a T-shirt and shorts and no scars on his body anywhere. I have scars on my body from head to toe from a grenade that went off at my feet.

While the earlier team didn’t feel anything had happened when they prayed, our Heavenly Father wanted to reveal Himself as the One true God to a group of animists who worshiped spirits. This entire network of hundreds of villagers came to Christ after witnessing a physical miracle. They believed and then saw the results. I believe the police officer was converted by what he had seen.

Do we in America still believe in the power of God? Or do we have to see, like doubting Thomas, who refused to believe Jesus had risen until he saw him with his own eyes? Do we believe God will hear our prayers for His Spirit to move in our nation once again like the Great Awakenings of our history? God is not finished with America.

God, our Father, we believe you are able to do what you have done before. We pray for your Spirit to be poured out once again on America!

Something to pray about. Semper Fidelis