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 (Manna 62: The Miracles of Jesus)
Unworthy of God's Grace
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Unworthy of God’s Grace

HH KoHeidelberg, Germany


I attended the 2009 World Delegate Conference (WDC) in Malaysia. I was scheduled to be there for ten days, from March 24 to April 2, taking part in meetings and the conference, but I don’t recall anything that happened during that time. Afterward, people told me that my behavior during the conference was strange: I had trouble walking, spent a lot of time resting, and did not greet others.

I woke up on April 1 in the hospital, with two holes drilled in my head. That’s when I realized that I had been operated on. I didn’t recall giving authorization for surgery, but the members who had rushed me to the hospital told me that I had signed all the paperwork.

They told me that they had taken me to the hospital for a full examination because of my odd behavior. When the hospital took a brain scan, they realized that one-fifth of my skull had filled with blood, displacing my brain so that it was pushed over to one side. This hospital was not equipped for brain surgery, so they had to send me to Malacca Hospital an hour away.

My situation was critical and it was possible that I would pass away en route to Malacca Hospital. Church members notified my siblings in Taiwan of my condition, and they rushed to Malaysia that day. My sister told me that they had been prepared to take my body home.

I’m very thankful for all the brothers and sisters who prayed for me during this time, especially the WDC attendees who stayed up late to pray for me. The two holes in my skull were drilled so that the blood in my brain could be drained. I had to stay in the hospital until I recovered from the surgery, but I didn’t know the full extent of my condition because the doctor was too busy to talk to me.

On the fourth night of my hospitalization, I started to reflect on my illness. Pastors often encourage us to reflect on anything that may have caused difficulties and problems in our life, and we were taught in theological school to be careful of greed, pride, and lust. So I thought about whether or not I had done something wrong.

But after examining and reflecting, I still could not figure out a reason for my illness, so I just accepted the fact that I got sick. All of a sudden I heard loud noises that seemed to be coming from the next room.

Normally, I am not that disturbed by loud sounds. For example, if someone near me snores very loudly, I just try to breathe along with him instead of becoming angry, and I’m soon asleep. But I wanted to find out where the sound was coming from because the noise made me nauseous.

From my reaction to the noise, I knew that it was a spiritual disturbance, possibly from Satan. I had witnessed the work of Satan and cast him out before, but I had never personally experienced disturbance by him.

I wanted to go look around and see if there was anything causing the noise, in case it was mice or something else. I needed to make sure that it was the work of Satan.

It was around 8 pm, and I had an intravenous (IV) line and a urine bag, so I had to bring them all with me as I walked slowly to the next room. It took me thirty minutes to get there, and, when I opened the door, I saw that it was an empty shower room. I didn’t know what was in that room because I hadn’t been allowed out of bed after the operation.

I turned each tap closed, very tightly, even though none of them were leaking. After I got back to my room, I could still hear loud noises and still felt nauseous. I knew that it was a demon that was disturbing me. I decided that it wasn’t worthy to be cast out by Jesus’ name because His name is precious and shouldn’t be carelessly used. So I said, “Cowardly demon, I’m ignoring you.” And the noise went away.

The next day, at around 8 pm, I felt a presence, a power in the room, but I wasn’t afraid. I said, “What do you want?” And I felt it run quickly to my feet.

Suddenly this demon was tugging on my blankets, trying to pull them off of me. I held onto the blankets tightly so that they wouldn’t get pulled away. I wasn’t about to let this demon take away the four blankets that I had especially requested from the nurses, so I cast him out in the name of Jesus. And he left.

After this second visit from the demon, I knew that it was my turn to go through trials and personally experience the work of Satan, but I wasn’t afraid.


I was discharged from the hospital on Friday, April 10, nine days after my surgery. The next day was Sabbath, and the local church asked me to give a sermon. I went up to the pulpit and told everyone not to worry about me while I testified about my experiences over the past few days.

My head was still wrapped in bandages when I went up to speak because the two holes drilled in my head had not yet completely healed. The deacon who invited me to speak was afraid that I would faint, so he sat in the first pew in case anything happened.

A brother who had ear surgery a year earlier was worried for me when I went up to speak and started to get a headache. He later testified that he saw a vision while I spoke. He saw five angels, as tall as the chapel, surrounding the pulpit where I was standing. Two angels stood in the front of the pulpit, one on each side, each holding a large book. Two angels stood in the back, one on each side, each holding a staff. And one angel stood behind me, in the middle, holding a sword.

After he saw this vision, his headache disappeared and he wasn’t worried anymore because the angels were watching after me. Nothing happened to me that day or the next day when I spoke during a special seminar. I believed, as everyone else did, that I was fine and there would be no more problems.

The two weeks I spent in Malaysia after my operation were truly because of God’s grace. I could not fly back home to Germany after I was discharged because the left hemisphere of my brain needed time to recover its normal shape. The blood that had built up in that part of my brain had pushed my brain out of place, and I was left with an empty space where the blood had been. There would be pressure problems if I went on a plane with a partially empty skull.

My wife came to take care of me, and we stayed at the unoccupied house of a church sister after I was discharged from the hospital. Thank God, my wife and I were able to experience a second honeymoon while I recovered.

We rarely had time for long conversations, but for two weeks we had a lot of time to talk, and we talked about everything—about our youth, the present, even our future and how to take care of our affairs once we passed away. We would sit and talk for many hours at a time, and I still think about this time fondly.

After two weeks, the doctors allowed me to fly home. I left Malaysia believing that my illness was behind me and that I had made a full recovery.


I went for a checkup at Heidelberg University Hospital on May 15, one month after I returned to Germany. After a computed tomography (CT) scan, the doctor told me that I couldn’t go home because my brain was again filled with blood and they had to operate that day.

Two more holes were drilled in my head to drain the blood. Unlike my first hospitalization, I remembered everything clearly: I dressed myself before going in for surgery, I shook hands with the anesthesiologist and the surgeon, and I was able to remember everything after I woke up.

The surgery went well, and my recovery went smoothly as well. On May 18, the third day after surgery, the doctor told me that I would be discharged the next day. That night, around 8 pm, I was getting ready to sleep when I suddenly felt a force behind me.

This was the third time I felt this presence, but it didn’t say or do anything other than watch me. I felt it staring at my back. I ignored it, but it wouldn’t leave, and the feeling of being watched for a long time started to annoy me. I got angry and cast it out in the name of Jesus.

I was lying down in bed and saw it run away through the corner. It was the first time I had seen a demon, but I can still picture it very clearly. It had a small pointed head and a tail like a broom, and I was surprised at the color because it wasn’t dark like it’s usually depicted but more of an olive green color.

After it left, I slept very well that night. When I woke up the next morning, I thought that everything was well and that I would be going home that day.

The doctor came in at 11 am to remove the drainage tubes in my head. The doctor told me to prepare for pain, and I steadied myself for pain of a level of ten, but it was at a level of eight. He finished removing the tubes at 11:30 am and left.

After the doctor left the room, I suddenly felt great pain in my head. It was many times more painful than the level of ten that I had prepared for earlier. It felt like someone was squeezing my brain in his hand. I had never felt pain of this scale.

I turned in bed to try to get rid of the pain, and then I felt my brain being squeezed two more times. Then I lost consciousness.

When the nurse brought my lunch at noon she found me lying in bed unresponsive. They took another CT scan of my brain and found that there was a mixture of brain matter, blood, and other brain fluid in my skull, which the doctor later described to me as a “blood cake.” I was taken in for surgery.

The doctors were unable to figure out what had happened because I was cleared for discharge that day, but then I suddenly lost consciousness and had a “blood cake” in my brain. The surgeon had to cut part of my scalp and lift it off like a flap, then cut through my skull and take off part of the skull to look at my brain.

When I woke up after this operation, I had some difficulty moving the right side of my body and could not speak clearly. Even though I went through physical therapy over the next couple of days, my condition didn’t improve and actually deteriorated until I was completely paralyzed on my right side and unable to speak intelligibly.

The doctors decided to operate on me one more time to see if they could find out what was wrong.


Before my second major brain surgery, the doctor told me that, if I was lucky, I would be able to speak my native language after the operation. He explained that the mother tongue is deeply ingrained in the brain, and subsequent languages are copied into the brain. The languages learned later would be lost, but I would still be able to speak my mother tongue after surgery if I was lucky.

My second surgery took place on May 22. When I woke up afterward, I was completely paralyzed on my right side. My wife, eldest son, and daughter came to see me in the intensive care unit (ICU) after the surgery. I decided to see if I was lucky, like the doctor said, and I tried to speak.

My mother tongue is Taiwanese, and only my wife and eldest son understood it. But when I spoke to them, they couldn’t understand me. I wasn’t lucky. I was like most people, unable to speak any language.

I remembered at that moment that a church member once said that determination is very important after a stroke or brain injury. So I was very determined to speak and kept trying, but no one could understand. So my wife suggested that I try to write what I wanted to say since I was trying so hard to speak. She gave me a piece of paper and a pen, and I told myself that this was the time to rely on my determination.

I tried very hard to write, using my left hand since my right hand was paralyzed. When I looked at my wife after I finished writing, I saw that there were tears in her eyes. I knew that something was wrong. Yet my wife told me, “You wrote very well.”

The part of my brain that controlled speech and language was damaged, so I couldn’t speak or write, and my right side was completely paralyzed. But I could still understand what people said to me.

I was very happy despite not being able to speak or move the right side of my body. I was happy because I wouldn’t be able to carry out my responsibilities as a preacher anymore, and, therefore, the chance that I would lose my salvation was greatly diminished.

Don’t get me wrong; I have always wanted to be a preacher—even as early as junior high. And receiving the Holy Spirit at that young age strengthened my hope of serving God in this capacity.

After I became a preacher, however, I started to worry that I would not be able to complete my work as a preacher. I heard stories of elders and preachers encountering many trials and temptations, and I learned that some were not able to continue being ministers. I worried that I would lose my salvation in the course of my work as a preacher because of trials or temptations.

Even so, I enjoyed being a preacher and thanked God for allowing my life to go so smoothly. But now, I believed that I had completed the work that had been entrusted to me as a preacher, and I felt a great freedom in this.

During my family’s visit, I continued to pray in the spirit, which concerned the nurse. My wife reassured her that I was just praying.

Since I was in the ICU, my family couldn’t stay long. My wife later told me that when they prayed with me before they left, I was able to say “hallelujah,” but, no matter how much they tried to teach me and help me, I could not properly say “amen.” After thirty minutes, they went home.


After my family left at 6 pm, I prayed in tongues and spoke to my heavenly Father in the spirit. Even though I couldn’t speak, I could still say “hallelujah” and my tongue was unchanged when I prayed in the spirit.

I had never been so happy before in my life—I felt free, like I had been released, and also because I could now pray and speak to the heavenly Father.

I talked to the heavenly Father from 6 pm to 9 pm. I didn’t see God or hear an actual voice, but I experienced everything in the spirit. I spoke to Him in tongues, and it felt like He was right next to me. I was so happy that I shed many tears while I was praying.

As I continued to pray and speak to God, I suddenly felt very small, like I had become a child. I said, “Abba, Father, can I sing a song for you?” He said, “Yes.” I told Him, “Abba, I can’t speak, but I can say ‘hallelujah,’ so I will sing hymn number 3 [“Hallelujah, Praise the True God”]. I can’t say the other words, but at least I can say ‘hallelujah.’”

So I sang this hymn to God and spoke to Him at the same time. I sang and shed tears because I was so moved by the experience, it was so beautiful. I did not ask God to heal me because I forgot at the time that I was partially paralyzed and could not speak. Furthermore, I felt that I was actually doing pretty well and was happy that I had completed my duty as a preacher.

I continued to pray and sing from 9 pm to 12 am. Then I told God, “Abba, I keep singing the same hymn, one that I learned as a child. Do you feel bored?” And He said, “Well, why don’t you sing another one, then?” I thought of all the songs that I could remember learning in church and started singing all of them, whether in Mandarin, Taiwanese, English, or German. I sang until 3 am.

At 3 am the nurse came into my room again, and, since I needed to ask her for something, I thought, “I’ve been singing for a long time, maybe I can speak now.” So I tried to talk to her. She was shocked. I could tell from her expression that she was more surprised than I was that I could speak.

The nurse had been in and out of my room the entire night, during which I had been praying in tongues, singing, and crying. She knew that I had been unable to speak for several days already. And then suddenly, I was able to speak to her and she could understand me.

From that moment on, I was completely healed and was back to my normal self, just as I am now. When I realized that I had recovered, I was mischievous and said, “Abba, can I really speak now? How about I try memorizing Revelation 1:1?” I taught Greek at the theological seminary in Taiwan, so I tried reciting the verse in Greek. I could do it. And then I tried memorizing Genesis 1:1 in Hebrew, and I was able to do it as well. Then, I fell asleep.


I stayed in the hospital for over a week after the surgery. During this time, I did not undergo any type of therapy because I was completely healed—I could walk, talk, and write. Due to an infection I acquired at the hospital, I was isolated in my own room and all visitors had to wear gowns, masks, and gloves. My wife and I got to spend a lot of time together and experience another honeymoon because of this.

On Friday, May 29, a week after my last surgery, I had another CT scan on my brain. I was discharged two days later, on Sunday, May 31. Strangely, the doctor didn’t come by to see me or speak to me. He had taken a lot of time to explain my condition after my initial surgery on May 15. However, on Sunday the nurse just told me that I could go home, so I left.

The first thing I did at home was to call my family in Taiwan and let them know that I was back home and completely healed. When I spoke to my mother and my brother, I could tell that something was wrong. They told me that my father had gone missing.

I prayed for my father and felt a lot of pain because he had been in good health and we didn’t know what happened to him. Three days later, they found my father; he had been called back to the Lord. He was eighty years old. Thank God, my mother received a lot of comfort during this time through miracles and God’s guidance.

My father’s memorial service was scheduled to be held two weeks later. I told my wife that we had to take time off and go back to Taiwan. My wife didn’t oppose me and just said, “Yes, we should all go back. But why don’t we ask the doctor first?”

When the doctor spoke to us on the phone, he was quite stern. He said, “I understand how you feel. My father also passed away recently. But don’t forget, if you get on the plane, you won’t be able to get off. You may not be afraid to die, but don’t affect the other passengers. If you die during the flight, it causes trouble because the plane will have to make an emergency landing or fly for several hours with a dead body. No one will be able to save you on the plane.”

After hearing this, I came to a realization and decided not to go. I sent my wife and my oldest son to attend the memorial service in Taiwan and represent me and my children.


On July 6, a few days after my wife and son returned from Taiwan, I went for my first checkup after my discharge from the hospital. They took a CT scan of my brain, and it showed no abnormalities or damage. The doctor told me that I was completely healed.

He gave me copies of all of the scans taken during my hospitalization, and, after seeing them, I understood why he hadn’t come to see me when I was discharged on May 31. The scans taken on May 29 showed that my brain was still damaged, that the “blood cake” was still there. Yet, I appeared to be completely healed—I could talk, and my right side was no longer paralyzed. I was discharged from the hospital without a visit from the doctor because he wasn’t able to explain what happened.

My wife had collected and organized a list of questions to ask the doctor at this checkup. There were three major categories of questions: 1) How did this illness occur? 2) How did you treat the illness? 3) How can we prevent this from happening again? There were many other questions under each category.

As we went through the list of questions, the doctor didn’t really listen. Afterward, he told us three things:

1. Accept the illness as a fact. I told him that I enjoyed my illness because it gave me the opportunity to be close to my wife and my Creator. On earth, there is nothing better than this, so I was very thankful that I became ill.

2. We don’t know the cause of your illness. The doctor told me that he saw many patients every year with similar cases of brain hemorrhage, typically caused by traumatic head injuries in car crashes. When he saw me initially in May, he had assumed that I had also sustained such an injury. However, I had recovered and was cleared to go home on May 19 when 25% of my brain was suddenly damaged, so it wasn’t possible that I had sustained a traumatic head injury. The doctors did not know what had happened.

3. We didn’t do anything to cure you. He said, “Your head gave us many headaches. Within seven days you had three operations. We removed part of your skull and looked at the brain in the last two operations. This was a last resort because there was nothing we could do. Your brain was still damaged when you were discharged, so we did nothing to cure you. From April to May, your condition deteriorated, but it was suddenly and mysteriously cured. We didn’t do anything.”

The doctor hadn’t addressed our questions about prevention, and my wife was unwilling to leave without getting his advice. So she asked him what we should do to prevent this from happening again.

He became angry, stood up behind his desk, and said, “Mrs. Ko, I already told you. We admit that we don’t know how the illness came about. Furthermore, we admit that we didn’t do anything to heal your husband. How would I know what you should do to prevent it?”

I whispered to my wife, “Let’s go home, he’s angry now, we don’t need to ask him anymore.” I thought that if I were the doctor, I would have said, “You should get plenty of rest and drink plenty of water. Don’t lift anything heavy but take some walks. Eat nutritious food, nothing salty or oily.” But the doctor was very frank in his response.

The doctor asked if I needed to take medical leave, so my wife asked when I could start working again. He said I could go back to work in four weeks, on August 9. My wife was surprised that it was so soon, thinking that I would need to take six months to recover. The doctor said, “He’s only flying to Taiwan, that’s no problem; he could even fly to the North or South Pole.”

August 9 was the first day of the new semester of the theological school in Taiwan. My wife and brother didn’t think I was ready to go back to work, but, since the doctor said I was fine, I went back to Taiwan in August. I resumed my full-time duties, and I’ve been working ever since.

I really thank God for all that has happened. But now I need the intercession of brothers and sisters even more. Why? Because the rough period has passed. In less developed areas, Satan will use less sophisticated methods to disturb and tempt people, such as demon possession.

In the western world, Satan works on us from the inside, not the outside. He uses civilized methods and illnesses to control our thoughts and actions. Therefore, we need to pray even more and be watchful. The rough period has passed, but there will be more trials to come.

Ever since 3 am on May 23, 2009, after I prayed and sang hymns all night to the heavenly Father, I have been completely cured. When I was sick, I thought that I had completed my responsibilities, but, after I was healed, I restarted my work. I thank God for His grace, but I need continual prayer in my life of worship and service to God.

I thank God, and I thank all of you for your intercession and concern.

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Author: H.H. Ko