I Was Blind but Now I See

Randall Horres

A Life Transformed

Does God still heal? Without a doubt! Let me take you back to where it all began. My twenties were filled with darkness, and the path I took was one I wouldn’t wish upon anyone. There is a better way!

One evening, after drowning my sorrows in alcohol, I convinced myself that there was only one way out. My plan was simple: grab another twelve-pack, head home, smoke a few joints, and down the last of my barbiturates. That was the solution I thought would end my pain.

But divine intervention had other plans. To this day, I have no idea how I—or anyone else—survived my reckless drive to the grocery store. I was too inebriated to function, struggling to make my way to the door when two strangers, recognizing my condition, offered to buy my beer for me. As I stepped out into the night, the rain drizzled down, making the darkness even heavier. My car slid off the road into a deep ditch, and in an instant, my head smashed into the windshield, shards of glass embedding themselves in my forehead and eyes.

Disoriented and blind, I tried to escape, only to be stopped by a neighbor who wrapped me in a blanket and told me there was no fleeing this time. At that moment, I couldn’t see a thing.

The Hand of God

The next person on the scene was an old high school friend—now a policeman. He had seen my headlights flicker erratically and turned back to help. I was rushed to the emergency room, where they recorded the highest blood alcohol level they had ever seen—a record that brings no pride.

You might think surviving the crash was the miracle. But no, the real miracle was that no one else was hurt—thank you, Jesus.

The second miracle? I never made it home to carry out my plan. That night, I was literally blinded, my vision gone in an instant. For six agonizing hours, the surgeon meticulously picked shards of glass from my eyes, and slowly, my sight was restored. It took me years to understand what had truly happened—God had intervened in my plan. I was blind, but now I see.

Clean and sober for 35 years.

Surviving the Storm

Years later, life presented another challenge—digestive problems that seemed impossible to fix. No diet worked. I was growing weaker by the day, undergoing infusions every three weeks, taking medication after medication with no relief.

At 60, I scheduled a routine colonoscopy. A month later, I spiked a fever and was rushed to the hospital. Just as I was preparing to be released, I went into respiratory arrest. I was placed into a coma—12 days trapped in a body that wasn’t responding.

As a pastor of 20 years, I knew that long comas often spelled the end. Many gathered to pray, offering comfort to my family. Yet another miracle—I survived. I felt like Lazarus rising from the grave, drained but alive.

In my recovery, my wife shared how many had come to pray for me. One name stood out—Rev. Carl Green, a longtime mentor and healer. He had prayed over me just before my body began to recover. Once again, God saved me.

The Mystery of Healing

Doctors struggled to explain why I had gone into respiratory arrest. My test results were sent far and wide, yet none could pinpoint the cause. Then, an unexpected clue arose—a sharp pain in my right shoulder.

A little research revealed something incredible: a malfunctioning gallbladder could affect the phrenic nerve, which controls the diaphragm—the very muscle responsible for breathing. Coincidence? I don’t think so.

Though tests showed no major issues, I found a surgeon willing to remove the gallbladder anyway. Two weeks after the procedure, I was completely cured of my digestive troubles.

God had worked another miracle.

Breaking Free

Quitting cigarettes was one of my greatest struggles. My wife’s cousin moved nearby and started a Nicotine Anonymous group. The same night we listened to her recorded message, we had attended a revival where my friends urged me to seek prayer for smoking cessation.

Reluctantly, I stepped forward. The priest insisted that I surrender my cigarettes and lighter, though secretly, I had brought an extra pack. When he said he had never failed, I almost pitied him—I thought, “You’ve never prayed for me before.”

But something changed. That night, after hearing my cousin’s message, I knew. It was over.

With God’s help, I quit. The struggle wasn’t easy, but I learned to lean on Jesus in those difficult moments. If you’re struggling with addiction, know this—you are not alone.

During NA meetings, I learned that former smokers should get CAT scans to check for early signs of lung cancer. That information was divine intervention—it saved my life.

A Divine Discovery

Over the years, I had undergone multiple scans due to my medical history. A test for calcium buildup in my arteries led me to the Medical University of South Carolina, where an advanced CAT scan detected something barely visible—a nodule on my right lung.

Previous scans showed it had grown, though it was still nearly undetectable. I was referred to a pioneering cancer surgeon, and within months, my upper right lung lobe was removed. The diagnosis? Adenoid carcinoma.

No chemo. No radiation. Just early detection—thank you, Lord.

If you smoke, quit. If you used to smoke, get checked. Early detection saved my life, but ultimately, it was God who saved me once again.

The Beauty of Silence

For years tinnitus had been a relentless companion, buzzing endlessly in my ears.

One day, in a breakout room, I asked for prayer. I believed in healing, and so we prayed. Immediately, the volume lowered. I was grateful, but still skeptical.

Then, something remarkable happened—my tinnitus would suddenly stop. For the first time in years, I experienced silence.

The more I praised God, the quieter it became.

God heals the small things. God heals the big things.

Praise Him. Believe.