Nicole stood in the bustling hospital ward, her Texan roots grounding her amidst the sea of chaos. As a nurse in a border town, she worked tirelessly, often with Mexican families who had crossed into the United States seeking a better life. Her days were filled with stories of hardship, resilience, and sometimes, profound sorrow.

One such day, a baby named Maria was admitted in a coma. The doctors had run every test, exhausted every drug, and yet, the tiny infant lay motionless, her life hanging by a thread. Nicole felt an indescribable pull towards this child, a sense of connection that transcended the usual patient-caregiver relationship.

Nicole had always been a woman of faith, though she kept it private, especially in the hospital where science and medicine reigned supreme. But today, as she stood by Maria’s bedside, something within her stirred. She remembered a passage she had once read: “Your faith will make you whole.” It echoed in her mind, a beacon of hope in the darkness of uncertainty.

In the quiet moments between shifts, Nicole would find herself praying for Maria. She did so quietly, almost secretly, knowing that overt displays of faith could be frowned upon. But in her heart, she held onto the belief that faith could move mountains, that it could bring about miracles.

“What is conspicuous for its absence?” Nicole often pondered as she prayed. It was any doubt that it might not be the will of God, any hesitation that suggested they had to wait and see. Nicole’s belief was unwavering: it was according to her faith that Maria would be healed.

One evening, as the sun set and the hospital lights cast a soft glow over Maria’s crib, Nicole felt a surge of determination. She recalled the scripture that had been her anchor: “As you believed, so be it done to you. Your faith made you whole.” She whispered these words, letting them infuse the room with their power.

The doctors had given up hope, but Nicole’s faith did not waver. “It makes a difference what you believe,” she thought. “It’s according to our faith that we’re healed.”

Days turned into nights, and Nicole continued her vigil. She spoke to Maria, telling her stories of hope, of love, and of miracles. She held onto the belief that Jesus himself had said, “Your faith did it.”

One night, as Nicole finished her prayer, a soft cry broke the silence. She looked down and saw Maria’s eyes flutter open. It was a small movement, but it was everything. Nicole’s heart soared. “I’ve seen people come back from death’s door,” she reminded herself, and here was another miracle unfolding before her eyes.

Maria’s recovery was swift. The doctors were baffled, calling it a medical anomaly, but Nicole knew the truth. It was faith, pure and simple. Her faith had made Maria whole. It wasn’t hearsay. Nicole had seen it again and again, and now, she had witnessed it with Maria.

As Maria’s parents wept with joy, Nicole silently thanked God. She knew that many believed healing was solely according to the will of God, but her experience, her faith, had taught her otherwise. “It’s going to happen according to your faith,” she whispered, a smile spreading across her face.

Nicole’s faith had been the difference between life and death for Maria. It was a powerful reminder that in the midst of despair, hope could still flourish, that miracles were real, and that faith, above all, was the key.

“I’ve heard from heaven,” Nicole thought. “I have got my answer. It’s not what men think. It’s in the Holy Word. He told me it is His will.”

And with that, she knew that no matter who, no matter where, and no matter how far gone, faith could heal. As she watched Maria sleep peacefully, Nicole felt a profound sense of peace. She had seen a miracle, and she knew that it was faith that had made it possible.