Thank God I never had to experience the pain of physically losing a father or mother. However, my life was torn apart by divorce. When I was seven, my mother left my father, and along with him, the church. Divorce is one of the most painful things that can happen to a child and the worst thing about it is that it is not an isolated event. It is not merely a painful thing that happens and then is over. Instead, the divorce of the parents is lived with and dealt with each day by the children.

    My parents had joint custody over me. That meant one day at my mom’s, the next at my dad’s and so on. The fact that I didn’t have a stable home was accentuated by the fact that the two homes had completely different world views. My dad, although he had his own problems, still went to church and tried to encourage me in a relationship with God. My mom, however, was searching. Protestant Christianity, Ancient Indian religions, Buddhism, and finally, pure Atheism were tried by her. She would encourage me verbally in my dad’s religion but in action she flatly contradicted it. Although she denied it, I knew from a very young age that she did not support my father’s lifestyle of Christianity.

    My ninth year was probably one of the hardest years of my childhood. At that time I really began to wake up and realize what my mom was doing. I also began to come out of the innocence of childhood into the realization of what sin really was. On top of this, all of the emotions which had been shoved aside by me at the time of the divorce (they were too painful to deal with at the age of 7) began to  emerge and engulf me in fear and despair. I rarely slept during this  time.  Instead, I was awake crying and screaming until late in the night. When I did sleep, I was bombarded with nightmares and would wake up in the morning fearing the night.

    However, God’s light shines more clearly in the darkness of suffering. It was during this time that He led me to Saint John Maximovitch. My dad and I had gone down to San Francisco for St. John’s canonization, so I knew a little bit about him at that time. My dad then learned that my godmother, who had been dying of cancer, had been miraculously healed at the grave of St. John. She then sent me a cross from the bookstore at St. John’s church. One Sunday, my dad decided to take me to the cathedral where the Saint’s relics are. Here, he told me, we would pray to him to help me with all of the feelings and fears that I did not understand.

    We arrived as the service was ending and people were slowly leaving. When we were almost alone, I went up to see the saint’s incorrupt relics. I prayed to him in the only way that I knew “St. John, please help me. Please take away the pain. Please help me to sleep, etc.” I bent over to get a closer look. I was wearing the cross that my godmother had given me and it dangled down about six or seven inches from the top of the saint’s tomb. Suddenly, I felt something pulling me from the chain around my neck. This invisible force was pulling me down, towards the coffin and I couldn’t move my neck back up. I let out a little yelp and then the cross snapped off the chain altogether. I raised my neck to find my dad standing there.

    “What happened?” he asked me.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Something was pulling me and my cross snapped off and I don’t know where it is.

    We both looked around and then realized that it was inside the coffin.

    This miracle seemed to have been St. John’s way of saying to me, “Don’t worry, I love you and through our prayers God will heal your family.”

    This healing started with me. Slowly but surely, the nightmares began to go away. The screaming died down and internally a feeling of peace began to replace my former despair. My mom continued in her life and my dad continued in his. I learned more about Orthodoxy, and then fell away from the church for awhile in my early teens. But God, through His grace, led me back to Himself as I entered adulthood. At this time, He also led me away from my family and down to Felton, CA, where I lived and went to school for two years.

    This separation from my family was especially hard for my mom, as she saw me becoming more involved with the church and less involved with her way of life. She feared she was losing me. During this time she was alone - no relationships had worked out for her -  and her health was failing. Her sufferings caused her heart to begin to open towards God.

    One night in December, I met her in San Francisco. We needed a common meeting place so we settled on St. John’s Cathedral. It was dark outside, but inside the glow of candlelight lit the walls, revealing one jewel-like icon upon the next, ascending up and up, heavenly images reaching for the heavens. As I walked in, I felt as though a wave of grace washed over me. It was one of those rare experiences where joy is actually a physical presence in the body and it burns the heart with longing for God. We stayed in there only a short time, but during this time I began to pray to St. John for my mother.

    The next year my relationship with my mom began to improve. She began coming down to Felton and coming to church there sometimes. We began to talk about Orthodoxy, although our talks always ended with her resistance on some point of the faith. There was always an underlying tension between us which we never addressed. I would have given up hope, but one time, at the the Monastery of the Theotokos of the Living Spring in Dunlop, CA, the Abbess Mother Markella, told me with assurance, “Oh yes, your mother will become Orthodox, soon. But you must pray for her very hard and bring her to church when she comes to visit you.”

    These words gave me hope and strengthened me in prayer to Christ, the Mother of God, and St. John. Finally, during the summer of 2002, the tension, which had existed between us since I had reentered the church, broke through. My mom and I got into a huge fight during which she told me that she thought I belonged to a cult and I told her, flat-out for the first time, that I thought what she believed and had done with her life was wrong. This is a very hard thing to tell someone, and once it had been spoken we both realized that something had to shift in our relationship. I left and we didn’t talk to each other for a couple of days.

    I cried for the rest of the day, fearing that this fight might tear me away from my mom, and not daring to hope that it would bring us closer. As I was crying, my step-mom told me, “Pray to St. John. He wants to help you bear this pain. He always has.” So I did, and immediately I realized that I had to go down to the cathedral where he was.

    I went on Pentecost, which was the Sunday after this happened. I wrote down everything I wanted to say to St. John, fearing I would forget it while I was there. I put my sheet of paper under his coffin and prayed for my mom. I stayed in there alone, except for my step-mom and sister, for close to an hour.

    That very day, perhaps at the same time that I was at the cathedral, my mom passed a little Orthodox church near her house that is almost never open. However, at that time it was open. She went in and stood before the icons in prayer. Two days later, she told me she was ready and wanted to join the church.

    St. John’s presence in my life has been such a blessing each day as he continues to help me with the big struggles, such as dealing with a divorced family, as well as the smaller struggles and temptations that occur on a day to day level. Whenever I’m in pain, he’s there, ready to help me carry that pain in prayer. My family continues to heal, and grow, and establish a deeper relationship with Christ. His burden among us is light, because it is the burden of love. Glory be to God in His Saints!

       At the request of my pastor, I am writing this account of my healing and forgiveness by God’s mercy at the hand of Saint John the Wonderworker.

   I became a catechumen in the Orthodox Church on October 5^th of this year (2003).  Prior to this, I have been attending catechumen classes reading several books my pastor had suggested.  Two of the books were on the life and ministry of Saint John.

   In my ignorance there are many things that I do not understand or yet fully appreciate in Orthodoxy.  The history and beauty of the Church and the lives of saints can be difficult to understand, especially given my Protestant and skeptical perspective.

   While reading about St. John’s life, I learned that he never slept lying down in a bed and that he never drank alcohol.  Both of these facts seemed tough and unnecessary to believe; and I said as much to my wife.  This conversation with my wife occurred on Friday.  During the day on Saturday, my back became painful and very stiff.  Nothing I tried would alleviate the pain.  The great irony is that I even prayed with St. John, asking him to pray on my behalf for healing.

    On Monday, in my office, I was reading from Man of God: Saint John of Shanghai & San Francisco during my lunch break. In the “Testimonies” section, I read an account called God-pleasers will not be mocked.  This account relates the story of a “middle-aged, energetic” couple who “sharply malign[ed] Vladika John in a most disrespectful manner.”  Shortly after criticizing St. John, both the husband and the wife suffered physical deterioration and death without doctors ever being able to diagnose what was wrong.  The witness to this story states “it was and is only too evident how the Lord defends His faithful servants, and how careful one must be not to criticize and judge People, especially hierarchs.”

   Upon finishing this account, I suddenly remembered what I had said about St. John three days before.  I immediately put the book down, and prayed with St. John, admitting my mistake and asking his forgiveness, explaining that I had not intended to offend him.  As soon as I finished my prayer, at the very moment I said “Amen,” I felt a large pop in my lower back.  I stood up, and all of my pain was gone.  I could bend over and my back did not bother me anymore.

   Praise God, and glory to His servants, especially St. John.

                                                                                                - Chad McFarlin, Atlanta, GA

       My family and I recently had the opportunity to pray before Saint John in San Francisco and the miracle that occurred was unexpected and is overwhelming. After we spent some time in the church, my daughter Andie, who is nine, and I spent some time alone before Saint John. I asked Andie to say a special prayer to the Saint for herself, but not to tell me or anyone what is was that she prayed for. Andie prayed for a brief moment without disclosing the prayer and we left the church.

       Twelve hours later, Andie and I were in the process of walking through a crowded parking lot in San Francisco lot when, for reasons which are not clear, she darted out in front of an oncoming car. I immediately screamed "Stop!" Both Andie and the car stopped, only one foot separating them. No one was hurt and other than nerves and what could have been, the event appeared uneventful. However, about an hour had passed after this emotional event and for reasons I cannot explain, I asked Andie what she had pray for before Saint John earlier in the day. Without understanding the significance of what she was about to tell me, she told me that she prayed to Saint John that she would not die. It has only been a week since this event occurred and the more that I think about it, the more significant it becomes.

       I cannot explain how thankful I am that prayers do get answered and I thank Saint John and God for the protection he offers all of us. God Bless.

       T. Mouzes, Wilton California

       Dear Fr. Jacob,

       In early December 2000, my mother Kathrin Carabas McFadden, a fifty-year smoker, suffered a bout of pneumonia. Unknown to her the pneumonia was the primary symptom of a small cell carcinoma tumor entering her chest wall, and a definition of Stage 4 lung cancer. Ninety eight percent of people with this symptom and stage are dead within six months, and the remaining two percent within a year. She did not tell me until February 12, 2001 that she had been diagnosed in January with lung cancer. At that time she had an appointment (I attended with her) with a surgeon who told her she was "unsectionable" or inoperable to remove the tumor. He explained that because of emphysema, she would have too little lung capacity to breath. The tumor had grown to the size of a softball and was pressing on her esophagus in the upper third of her lung. Surgery meant removing the lung.

       During the next two months I labored to get my mother a second opinion with the Lung Oncology Department of UC Davis. When she finally had that appointment it was early April. They recommended a course of treatment that included both radiation and chemotherapy for eight weeks. My mother did not begin chemotherapy and radiation until late May 2001. The six months were nearly gone.

       On June 1, 2001, St. Anna's Greek Orthodox Parish in Roseville received its new priest, Fr. Chris Flesoras. At his first Sunday service, Fr. Chris anointed parish members with oil from the tomb of St. John of Shanghai and San Francisco, and presented us with a Q-tip soaked in oil, and wrapped in foil for our homes. Our family drove to my parent's home and I anointed my mother, and repeatedly have asked St. John to intercede for her.

       My mother is still with us today, June 17, 2003. She was recently asked by her physician if she is sure she was correctly diagnosed. The tumor is not gone, but is smaller, and she is considered stable, and there is no sign of the cancer spreading. The doctors are so impressed with the oxygen level in her blood and her condition, that they told her they just don't know how long she will live, but probably quite a while.

       I in prayer, promised St. John that I would write what happened, and I will update this periodically. Glory to God! St. John intercedes for us!

       I pray for a happy, holy and peaceful name day for you tomorrow. Many years!

       One request, an you please sent me the kontakion for St. John?

       Yours in Christ
       Margaret McFadden Mueller
       Roseville, California

       Father Bless,
       Dear Fr. Jacob,

       I have quite good news to report about our most glorious Father St. John the Wonderworker. This march i was able to visit Vladika's most holy relics in San Fransisco and bring back a bottle of His precious oil. About 2 weeks ago i began having terrible pain and trouble with my eyes. ON night while praying i couldn't even read my prayers because of the irritation it caused my eyes. I thought that i would have to go and get glasses since i work on a computer all day. THat night i anointed my eyes and venerated the icon that i have of him that i laid on his most holy tomb. Immediatley my eyes were restored and i've had no problems with them burning or watering since.

       Thanks be to our MOst Holy Lord for showing His mercy to us through Hie magnificent Saint John!!! May God save us by Saint John's most worthy prayers!!!

       Joshua Smith

       St. Stephen Orthodox CHurch

       HIram. GA

       This may sound trivial, but the following experience made a profound impact on my ability to believe in the communion of the saints and has helped me see their readiness to strengthen our faith.

       Last year, while I had been reading a biography of St. John the Wonderworker for several days, I found myself "missing" this saint who had departed this life only weeks after my birth. It was almost as if I was grieving over having missed the opportunity of knowing this amazing saint and becoming one of his spiritual children. I was also struggling with understanding the 'reality' of the saints and their ability to relate to us

       One night amid a deep sleep I awoke to sudden sharp cries from my baby--a very unusual thing--and though half asleep, all I could think was to cross myself and say, "St. John please quiet my child." That very instant he became silent. And my immediate thought was, "Oh that was a coincidence." The moment I thought those words, he began screaming again. Once again I boldly asked St. John's help, this time affirming in my heart that I would not doubt the source of my help. In that instant my son became silent, and remained so the rest of the night.

       But the most amazing part was that I too fell asleep immediately and began to dream that I was reading to one of my children from a book on manners. It was an incredibly realistic dream and I clearly heard myself reading the actual words from this book by Maurice Sendak and Sesyle Joslin published back in 1958 called "What Do You Say, Dear?" I was just reading the phrase, "What do you say, dear?" and was turning the page where I expected my son to reply "Thank you very much" when I suddenly woke up realizing how I had failed to even say "Thank you". It was as though St. John had said, "Here's lesson #1 in relating to the saints: use common courtesy--since we are human too."

       And how gently I had been reminded. I found it humbling to be instructed through this as if I were a little child, and yet immensely grateful that I should be offered such a tender fatherly rebuke which further served to affirm the closeness and affection of the saints despite our blind and childish state.

       I had to laugh when I pulled the book off the shelf to re-read it after this incident, and found the subtitle reads, "A book of manners for all occasions." If we can only learn to speak to the saints as though they were standing right there in the room, we may find that to be not too far from the truth.

       St. John the Wonderworker, well pleasing to God, thank you for your prayers for us!

       Sincerely,

       Julie Thorp

       Your Blessing!

       I wanted to relate this to your book, as you have had many other fine testimonies about Vladika John. Throughout my ministry, since I first learned about the Saint(1993), my family is under his protection, helping our situation and building faith in Christ in my ministry to Him.

       One such miracle is this: I was attending the Senior Goya teenage camp at Camp Nazareth, PA. in July 2001. I was asked to talk about St. John to a cabin full of boys who dedicated their cabin to Vladika John. After speaking of my instances with him and sharing of his life. Decided to anoint each boy with Vladikas'  Lampada oil. There was especially one boy who wanted anointing not only on his head, but a bad scab on his knee. Doing so, I blessed them for bedtime and left. The next morning, there was a commotion from the cabin and many excited children buzzing from the latest news! The that I anointed his knee reported that St. John (whether actually or in a dream) came into the cabin, dressed simply in a cassock, stole and omophorion with a staff, blessed the boys knee in an "unearthly light" turned and left the cabin all smiles. Waking the next day the boys scab had disappeared, leaving him with two good knees!

       Great is the saint and his love for all of us in Christ!  May he intercede for us in these terrible times!

       Yours in Christ
       Fr. John Stavropoulos

       Dear Reverend Father,

       Please bless!

       I am sending my testimony: I am Serbian Orthodox, presently living in Toronto. Since that time I pray to St. John every night.

       I had a problem with my left foot. It was very painful and annoying, particularly the toe, which became very stiff. My toe was deformed because of a bunion. This caused me constant pain and made me quite miserable, irritable and even sarcastic. I could barely walk normally any more. When the pain became intolerable, the doctor would inject it with cortisol. Relief was temporary, only for a few months. The pain would return, much worse than before. Because of severe pain I was unable to sleep at night.

       One night I remembered St. John's oil our friends brought from San Francisco. I found the oil, read the Akathist to St. John and with tears prayed for his help. I then applied the holy oil to my toe and before my eyes, in three movements, the toe straightened out! I was so excited, so touched, that I could not sleep all night. I felt an unexplainable energy penetrating my foot, as if there were a thousand tiny needles. It was a sensational feeling... My toe was not stiff any more, although it did not straighten out 100%. I think this is so to remind me of St. John's miracle.

       I told my son what happened. He felt I was exaggerating, since he knew the previous condition of my toes. He was not convinced. Soon afterwards he broke a finger on his right hand. After the cast was removed my son complained that his joint was still very stiff and painful. I told him that St. John could help him but his faith must be strong. My son replied that he first has to see to believe. I said the opposite: he first needs to believe and only then can healing take place. He told me that he would try. We kneeled by his bed and prayed. I read the Akathist to St. John, applied St. John's oil to my son's finger and kissed him good night. In the morning he got up and said: "The holy oil really helped. It worked. Look, I can move my finger!"

       Glorious is God in His saints! Thank you St. John for answering our prayers!

       St. John, please guide and lead us sinful ones. Please pray to God for us.

       Mira Vujovic