As I shared in my previous testimony, my fiancée was a devoted Buddhist. She visited the temple every month, spending hours in prayer. She carried her prayer beads with her everywhere, using them even while commuting on public transport. Her faith was deeply ingrained in her, and I respected that.
But when I accepted Christ, everything changed.
The friend who introduced me to church had gifted me a Bible, and I brought it home that night. I wasn’t prepared for what happened next—my fiancée was furious. She felt betrayed, insisting that I was only supposed to take our nephew to church, not become a Christian myself. The argument escalated, and she was so angry that she almost kicked me out of the house.
Our relationship grew tense in the following days, filled with cold silences and heated exchanges.
But I remembered something from scripture—one of the first messages that truly stayed with me:
“Ask, and it will be given to you.”
So I prayed my first real prayer as a newborn Christian:
“God, please let my fiancée see You and accept You as her Lord and Savior.”
At that time, my fiancée had been struggling with persistent health issues. She often felt lightheaded, dizzy, and weak. There were days when her lips and face turned alarmingly pale, and we couldn’t figure out why. Then, one day, she fainted near an MRT station. Her colleague called me, and I rushed down to get her.
Worried, we went to a clinic for a blood test. The results left us in shock—her platelet count was dangerously high.
To put things into perspective, a normal platelet count ranges between 150,000 to 450,000 per microliter of blood, which is often written as 150-450. Anything above 450 is considered high. My fiancée’s count was over 1,100—more than double the highest limit.
We thought there might have been a mistake, so we did another blood test at a different clinic. But the results came back the same.
The doctor was concerned and urgently recommended that she see a hematologist—a blood specialist. However, since it was a government hospital referral, we had to wait two months for an appointment.
I wasn’t willing to wait.
That night, after dinner, I told my fiancée to pack a bag—I was taking her straight to the Accident & Emergency (A&E) department at the hospital. I hoped that by going through A&E, we might get a chance to see a specialist immediately.
When we arrived, I showed the nurse my fiancée’s blood test results and explained her condition. Without hesitation, they put her in a wheelchair and rushed her inside. It was serious.
Knowing that hospital visits often involve long waits, I had brought my Bible along to read. When my fiancée saw it, she scoffed and said loudly:
“If your God is that great, heal me—and I will follow you to church!”
It was a challenge.
We had arrived at A&E around 9 PM, and I sat outside reading my Bible, waiting for updates. Near midnight, a doctor came out and called for me.
“Fiancé of Celine?”
I quickly walked up to him. His expression was puzzled.
“I’m sorry, but I believe there might have been an error in our measurements. Your fiancée’s platelet count is now showing 400.”
I was stunned.
Just a few hours ago, two separate blood tests had confirmed a count of 1,100. Now, suddenly, her platelet count had dropped by more than half within a few hours?
The doctor wasn’t convinced either.
“We need to run another test to be sure,” he said.
At 3 AM, he returned, looking even more baffled.
“I don’t know what’s happening, but your fiancée’s platelet count has dropped again. It’s now at 100. This is medically unexplainable.”
He decided to admit her for further observation and testing.
Over the next few days, the hospital conducted a full series of tests—MRI scans, ENT examinations, additional blood work—everything. But in the end, they couldn’t find anything wrong with her.
On the day of her discharge, her pale complexion was gone, her dizziness had disappeared, and for the first time in years, she felt completely healthy.
She had been healed.
I knew in my heart—this was God’s doing.
Two months later, my fiancée kept her word. She followed me to church.
And to this day, she remains a devoted child of God.
That was the first miracle I had ever witnessed in my life. But it wouldn’t be the last.
