Author Archives: Nigel W.D. Mumford

New York Times Healing Testimony…

HEALING TESTOMONY… Prostrate cancer
New York Times editor Dana Jennings writes each week about coping with an aggressive form of prostate cancer.

Michael Kassin April 7, 2009 · 10:16 am

Dana, you continue to inspire me. In that spirit, I’m happy to share my own story about prostate cancer, and a miraculous, spiritual awakening, that has helped me to be where I am today. I hope others can benefit from it.

“Good morning, Leo,” I said, stepping carefully through my landlady’s kitchen. Leo, her ill-tempered schnauzer, bared his teeth and gave a low snarl. I wasn’t afraid of Leo, but I did find his constant nastiness toward me depressing. After all, it was starting to feel like the whole world shared his sentiments.
My marriage was breaking up, my PR business was struggling and here I was, at age 49, a lonely boarder letting a room in a house and scrambling to make the rent. It was like being thrown back to my twenties, but without the insouciance of youth. In six months’ time, one thing after another had been taken away from me. I’d gone from a comfortable middle-class existence to this.
On top of that, today I had a biopsy to look forward to. A recent physical had revealed that my PSA test numbers were high. A high PSA is a possible indicator of prostate cancer. I’d insisted on seeing a specialist, and He suggested a biopsy. I said a quick good-bye to my landlady – side-stepped Leo – and got on the road to the doctor’s.
The procedure was quick but memorable. “We’ll call you in a week with the results,” the doctor told me. “Try not to worry. Men your age have PSA spikes for a lot of reasons. It doesn’t necessarily mean cancer.”
Easy for him to say. After all, he didn’t know how my luck had been running of late.
That night, back in my rented room, I lay awake staring at the ceiling. Maybe he’s right, I thought. I shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Then again, like that old blues song says, if it wasn’t for bad luck I wouldn’t have any luck at all. Not lately.
I’d grown up in an observant Jewish household, but I wasn’t that observant right now. Bob, my older brother, had recently sent me a beautifully bound copy of The Five Books of Moses – that is, Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy. I’d read a little each morning, and eventually made it through the whole thing. Then, for no particular reason, I began reading a beat-up New Testament a friend had given me years before. Don’t ask me why. Maybe I was secretly hoping God was testing me like some character from Genesis, and if I passed he’d pop up and give back all the good things in my life. I know that sounds simple, childish. But sometimes I got the feeling that there really was a reason I was reading all this stuff. Maybe God was preparing me for something. So each morning, no matter what, I read on.
A week later, my doctor called with the biopsy results.
“I’m sorry, Michael,” he said. “It’s cancer.”
I don’t think I spoke for at least a minute. I didn’t know what to say. Strange how a single word can carry so much fear – how it can change everything in a second.
“Given your age and your family history,” the doctor told me, “there’s only one logical choice. Surgery.”
“What about kids?” I managed to ask, surprising myself. My soon-to-be-ex-wife and I had never really agreed about kids so we’d never had any. But I’d always pictured them in my future. Now, at age 49, that dream was being taken away.
“Well, that still might be possible…” he said, but that didn’t sound too reassuring.
And I needed some reassurance. So I attended a prostate cancer support group at a nearby hospital. Do you know what surprised me most? How much emphasis there was on the spiritual aspects of dealing with the disease. “There are two parts to recovering from prostate cancer,” the group leader told us. “One part is physical. The other is how you look at things — what you believe.”
In the days that followed, I sat down at my computer, made phone calls, got more information. The more I read, the more confused I got.
Then one morning I was eating breakfast at a local diner – — and I read about a woman with advanced breast cancer who ran a day spa. She’d been given weeks to live by all her doctors. As a last-ditch effort, her husband took her to a faith healer. The woman recovered.
Before I knew it, I was down at that spa, asking to learn more. They told me they were having healing classes there. In fact, a man named Nigel Mumford would be speaking there that Thursday about the power of prayer and healing. Did I want to come?
I did.
Nigel Mumford was not what I’d expected. A stocky, handsome, self-effacing Englishman in his early forties, he was—I kid you not—a former drill instructor in the British Royal Marines, who’d discovered his gift for healing basically by accident. The kind of guy, I thought, who wouldn’t put people on.
But the minute I arrived at the event, I had second thoughts. Other than Nigel, I was the only man there.
“Prayer may or may not heal your illness,” Nigel told us. “But it does do something every bit as important: It helps you to heal inside.”
Fair enough, I thought.
“Now,” said Nigel, “I’d like you all to break up into groups of three. We’re going to pray for each other.”
Again I was seized by the feeling of not belonging. But there was no turning back. I pulled my chair over to two others.
“Why don’t you sit down first?” one of the women said. “We’ll pray over you.”
At least I won’t have to do all the praying myself. I took a seat, and the two women got behind me. This is crazy. I closed my eyes. Just try to relax and go with this, I said to myself. Just…
Something warm – almost hot – pressed against my abdomen and lower back. I opened my eyes. Nigel was standing in front of me, his hands on my stomach. His hands were generating the tremendous heat. And they were trembling. Soon my abdomen began to tremble too. I thought it was going to split open. It was so strange, so impossible really, that I almost jumped up out of the chair.
I forced myself to stay still. The heat spread. So did the trembling — through the rest of my lower body, my chest, my head. It felt like a rocket ship taking off inside me. What on earth was going on?
Whoosh! All at once this heat, this energy I was sensing, surged out of me, as if I were some kind of human champagne bottle that had just blown its cork. I looked around. The room was exactly the same as it had been a moment before – simple, not fancy, neither church nor clinic. A plain vanilla room. Yet everything was different. The fear that had come to inhabit me those past weeks was gone. In its place was… love. That was the only word for it. An actual, physical presence. It seemed to fill not just me, but the whole room. The whole world, perhaps.
“Is he okay?” one of the women standing behind me asked Nigel.
“Oh yes,” Nigel said. “He’s fine.”
I bumbled through the rest of the evening. At the end of the event, some of the women lingered to talk to Nigel. I waited for them all to leave, then walked over.
“How did you do that?” I asked.
Nigel smiled. “I didn’t do anything,” he said, giving me a clap on the shoulder. Then he pointed upward. “He did.”
The next morning, I looked at myself in the mirror. Had it all been a dream? A product of my desperation? I went downstairs to the kitchen. My landlady was there. So was Leo.
“Good morning, Leo,” I said, stepping carefully around him and expecting the customary morning ugliness.
Instead, Leo—whom I had never, ever been able to touch before this moment– raised his head and trotted over to me. He sat down, looked up, and brushed my leg with his paw. Leo was waiting to be petted. By me.
My landlady was staring at Leo as incredulously as I was.
Half-expecting to lose a finger, I reached down and gave Leo a tentative pet on the back. Leo didn’t move. He brushed my leg with his paw a second time. This time I reached down with both hands, sure I would get it. But Leo just sat there as I gave his sides a rub. That’s when I knew something had happened to me. And of all the creatures on earth, Leo was the one who let me know it.
I went ahead with the surgery. It was successful. I continued to pray, a Hebrew prayer, a Christian prayer and later, a Muslim prayer, every morning and every night. And my life changed– for the better this time. I’m now married to a beautiful, strong, deeply spiritual woman (Nigel played bagpipes at our wedding) and we have two beautiful kids. That I am a father may well be the greatest miracle of all.
What does this all mean? That God capriciously adds and subtracts from our happiness? That I’m a recipient of incredible luck? No – luck had nothing to do with it. Something happened to me that night, something more than physical healing. I had a deeper healing, one that I was preparing for even without knowing it. Maybe God took a chance on me because I was willing to take a chance on God.
When we are open to Him – as I was that night with Nigel – the most incredible changes can happen to our lives. And change itself is a hint of miracle.
Look at Leo.
From Dana Jennings: To all of you, I wish you a peaceful and healing week. As always, your
comments teach me, touch me and sustain me.


~Stay connected~
Dear Souls, Remind yourself about God. Do not forget. It seems that when we don’t think we need him he is far away. When we do call on him, he is near if we know it or not. We have plenty of time to think about God, so think about God. May I quietly remind you to turn to him, say Hi, say a pray, allow him to warm your heart during these anxious times. Stress is the enemy. Focus on peace. Focus on good things not allowing your mind to spiral into dark depths. 
So here is my prescription, taken from the words of St. Paul to the in Philippians 4:8 Brothers, Sisters focus on the truth, focus on what is noble, on what is right, what is pure and what is loverly. Focus on what is admirable. Keep you mind on what is excellent and what is praiseworthy. Think about “these” things.

Be well, do good works and for the sake of God, love one another.

Fr. Nigel W.D. Mumford+

~God’s Mysterious Ways~

Gods Mysterious Ways.
~Fr. Nigel W.D. Mumford+

Two years ago I drove by an older gentleman with a younger woman. He was leaning on a mailbox clearly in distress.  “I turned my car around” and stoped to see if we needed to call an ambulance. His daughter said, “I was praying like crazy that someone would come to our help. Would you give us a ride home?” So we got in my car and I took him home.
So this evening I went for a gentle bike ride. I saw the mans wife at his mailbox.  “I turned my bike around” to say hello. She told me that he died on Tuesday and was buried this very afternoon. She reminded me of the last time “I turned round…”
Pay attention dear Souls. You never know when God will show up.He really moves in mysterious ways. Rest In Peace John.Be well, do good works and for the sake of God, love me another.BlessingsNigel+



By Fr. Nigel W. D. Mumford+
I was praying for someone recently. Her voice was flat lined and quiet. I could hear the pain without hearing her story. It was a tough story. Before we prayed for her healing I asked her, if she was ready and willing to pray a prayer for those who hurt her and rejected her. She said a very powerful prayer of forgiveness. Then her voice actually changed.I heard her countenance change, I actually felt a change in her being. She sounded totally different after her prayer. To the point where I asked if I was still speaking to the same person. I know without a doubt that praying her heartfelt prayer of forgiveness set her free from years of oppression. It was such a Godly moment. It was the moment that she was healed. It was physically palpable, of this I have not doubt. It was God moving in His mysterious ways. The very moment of her healing. 
I can tell you there is nothing more “out of this world” in having the privilege of watching God at work, setting the captives free. 
Do you have someone who has power over you? Someone from the past, someone who is free, or dead or even in prison? Is it time “you” were released from that oppression. Pray a prayer forgiving them.  They will now have no power over you whatsoever.  You will be set free. Do not allow anyone except God to have power over you. Jesus came to set the captives free. Be free dear Soul from any Soul-tie from the past… even if it was five minutes ago.
How is your countenance now? Be well, do good works and for the sake of God, love one another.~Fr. Nigel+ 


Fr. Nigel W.D. Mumford+
Dateline May 2009 First Presbyterian Church, Greenville, South Carolina.
I had been invited to lead a healing mission at the First Presbyterian church in Greenville SC. That included a talk Friday night. Two talks and a Q&A session Saturday morning and a healing service in the afternoon. The conference was very well attended, around five hundred people. On Friday evening before my first presentation I was given an office to pray in. As soon as my host had left, I fell on my knees in prayer. Immediately I was given a vision. It was so vivid, so real, so powerful and so quick.
I saw Jesus on the Cross!
He could barely speak but he invited me to pick up the ladder, place it on the cross and climb it. He wanted to say something to me. I was concerned about the guards… don’t worry they are on their coffee break. Coffee break? Jesus, coffee had not been invented yet. Was that my imagination, or was he messing with me? Whatever happened took away my fear of what was about to happen.
I lifted the ladder and placed it on the vertical post just under the horizontal beam. I climbed the ladder very hesitantly. The blood, the smell, the flies, imminent death, the actual crucifixion, the horror… I got to stand on the ladder right next to Jesus. It was all so very real. He looked at me, my heart melted. The sorrow in his eyes… the grief for the world, the burden upon his shoulders pushing him downwards.
He whispered, “I want to tell you something. Put your right shoulder under my left shoulder and lift me up, I’m suffocating.” I slid my shoulder under his and lifted him up the best I could. His head was right next to mine inches away. No flies, no smell. Blood and dirt on his face, matted hair… it was all so very real, all so vivid.
He spoke, “I want you to see what I see…”
I looked away from the Lord, our cheeks almost touching. I looked at the terrain, the geography, the wadies, the light brown burnt looking grass, I looked as everything he was looking at. I thought later that all the painting of Jesus on the Cross are images of the front of the crucifixion. I don’t remember seeing any painting of the rear of the Cross or the view from the Cross!
I was suddenly back in that upper room office. Stunned. What just happened. I was just transported in time to the outer walls of Jerusalem to the year 33 and had a conversation with Jesus. I was wondering why he wanted me to look at the topography, the view from for Cross?
My host came into the room. She knew by my face that something had happened. I was in shock. We did not have time to talk about it as she led me to the worship space. It was a much larger crowd than I had imagined. We praised the Lord with some powerful ‘happy clappy” worship songs and then I was introduced. I was still very much on the top of the ladder. I was in shock… what just happened?
The introduction ended. It was my turn to speak. I smiled and looked around, getting my bearings. I paused to get my feet off the ladder and back on firm ground. I started to tell the gathered crowd of the vision I had just experienced. I got to the part when Jesus said, “I want you to see what I see…” and froze. It was not the view from the Cross, it was not the topography, it was not the land…
His word suddenly made sense.
“I want you to see what I see…”
I stared at the back row on the left side and looked right into the eyes of everyone there. I went up and down the rows, looking at every Soul present. I spoke out the message I had been given as it came to me.
I realized what the Lord wanted me to see. Nigel, I want you to see the pain, the dis-ease, the sickness, the illness, the diagnoses, the mental anguish, the emotional pain, the broken hearts, the real pain, the perceived pain, the rejection, the grief, the loss, the lack of being loved, the raw broken Souls, the emotional bleeding, the triage, the fear, the anxiety, the anger, the rage, the discord, the mental illness, the disconnect, the very real human suffering in all its forms. It was as if I was given the vision of the very real suffering of Jesus and then the Lord showing me the human condition of the same raw pain our Lord suffered in the same moment.
“I want you to see what I see…” I indeed saw what He wanted me to see and I have seen what He wants me to see so many times since this amazing gift and intimate encounter with the crucified Savior.
What is my reaction to this brief encounter with Jesus? It was all so real, so vivid, I know it was not my imagination. The fact that I was not able to connect the dots until I was in such a vulnerable place standing in front of five hundred people and not knowing where this vision was going until it all made sense in the very moment of looking at the gathered crowd.
“I want you to see what I see…”
I saw and still see what the Lord sees… not something I asked for, not something I was seeking, but an amazing gift, an insight, an intimate “showing” into the life of Jesus, and what He saw.
After note.
Five months later I was in a coma for three weeks. I was in the ICU for three months. I had a severe case of the H1N1 swine flu. I was not expected to live. My lungs, hips and legs took a major hit. My liver and kidneys had shut down. I was on one hundred percent oxygen for three weeks, I had a temperature of 105, sepsis and MRSA, my blood was pooling in my legs. I was dying and couldn’t breath on my own. Jesus came and lifted me up and gave me life. He let me speak again…
I know my redeemer lives… I have no doubt who the healer is. Thank you, Jesus, for so drastically changing my life… what more can I say except thank you, I am still in total awe of that life changing moment.
Grace and Peace be with you,
Father Nigel W.D. Mumford
Priest – Author -International Speaker
Priest Associate; Galilee Church, Virginia Beach /Director of Prayer Ministry
BY HIS WOUNDS INC. /Founder and President
Founder /Welcome Home Initiative© A Healing Retreat for Combat Veterans

Setting Healthy Boundaries

I am often asked for advice about the efficacy of “toxic people” in the power they have to “train wreck” their day.
If you are being “slighted, put down, verbally attacked or verbally abused” please consider setting some healthy boundaries. Remember “NO” is a complete sentence.
People are habitual. You may have been the recipient of verbal abuse over a long period of time. Perhaps it is time to set boundaries. If you gently and quietly after a slight pause, speak these words or words that work for you, you will have set a healthy boundary. You may have to do this several times until the message is received. A hand, flat and pushed forward with the word “No” is a powerful statement.
Presented in gradual firmness…
1) I am feeling hurt by your words. Please stop.
2) What you are saying is really hurting/offending/disappointing me. Please stop
3) Please be gentle with me. I am hearing your verbal attack
4) What I have heard you just say really hurts me. Please don’t do that.
5) Please don’t say that. It really hurts me.
6) Your words are not sitting well with me. Please stop this verbal abuse
7) Please stop, you are hurting me. (then change the subject.)
8) Say, “Stop it”
9) I’m going to hang up now. Your words are hurting me.
10) Walk away or Hang up.
Here follows an interesting verse that might apply to toxic people in your life and the pain they might cause you. This bible verse sets out a very healthy boundary…
2 Corinthians 2:1
“So I made up my mind that I would not make another painful visit to you…”
“NO.” is a complete sentence.
Fr. Nigel W.D. Mumford+

I thought I was going to be late…

Virgina Beach 11.00am Mon, March 11th 2019
I was wearing my clergy collar, driving a mile from my house on my way to a prayer appointment when I saw an older man crouched over a brick mail box, with a younger woman with her arm around his shoulder. He looked stressed.
I turned around and went back to see if he was OK. He was very winded.
His Daughter was in tears saying,
“I just prayed for help and you came by…”
I asked if they needed an ambulance?
She said they had gone for a walk… a bit too far, and that he was winded.
I asked where they lived and then gave them both a ride to his house.
We spoke about the priest in the story of the Good Samaritan, * who, you may remember, crossed over to the other side of the road…
I was convinced I was gong to be late for the appointment but got there five minutes early!
It was a good morning in the vineyard… with the fruits of the Spirit.
To God be the Glory.
Fr. Nigel W.D. Mumford+
*Luke 10:25-37

A Middle C Miracle Moment.

At the start of my homily at the healing service
this past Tuesday, the piano, out of the blue
played middle C.
We all (95 People) looked at the piano… in awe.
The pianist was ten pews away from the piano… we had a note
from the Lord. I confess I had goose bumps on goose bumps.
It was as if the Lord said, “Listen to me…”
It was a key note moment!
~Fr. Nigel W.D. Mumford+

The leaf blower… part two.

I just pulled out the washer and the dryer to clean the vent.
Now, this time it was good.
The battery leaf blower is excellent at cleaning the vent
As long as you point the thing outside!
You should have seen what came out… half a doz
Single socks… we are having a party here.
Reunions all over the place.
Not really.
Just a lot of that gray fluffy stuff…
DO NOT use a leaf blower to clean the coils on your fridge.
This is really NOT a good idea.
Dyson or a hair dryer!
DO USE a leaf blower to clean the dryer vent at least once a year!
The Nozzle fitted into the vent very well.
Gray matter all over the side yard.
Why is dryer lint always gray?
I don’t even have any gray clothes.
I drained the hot after heater too.
I didn’t need the leaf blower for that!
If I had brains I’d be dangerous!
Stay tuned for more adventures of
Fr. Nigel+

NOTE TO SELF… I didn’t think it through.

Is it a good idea to bring a leaf blower in to the house?
In a word NO.
So, I started my spring cleaning check list…
First on the list, pull out the fridge and clean the cooling coils.
I wheeled the fridge out of its nesting place to find a huge
gathering of dog hair entangled amongst the coils.
I attacked it with the vacuum cleaner. It picked up
some of the offending dog hair but nowhere near all of it!
Ummm wha to do?
The vacuum did not pass the test.
Ah har…
Yes, you guessed I went outside and got the “Leaf Blower”
I thought, no worries, that will do the trick. It did…
I confess I did the “Tim the Tool Man Taylor” thing and
Did not think it through.
I knew it would remove the blockage but that’s as far as thought!
My bride was watching the TV.
I warned her of an impending very loud noise, but that was all.
I then put the battery leaf blower on full power.
The out come was very effective for the fridge.
It did the trick.
the explosion of dog hair and 5 years of dust on the other side of the
Fridge was so bad one could NOT see the other side of the room.
World war three had taken place in the kitchen.
We both ran out of the house looking like zombies.
NOTE TO SELF and fellow gentlemen…
If you are using out Door equipment, indoors, it is most likely a mistake!
There’s your clue…but you can expect fantastic results…
The motor house and coil of the fridge are like new…
The kitchen… looks like a bomb has gone off.
It took me ten minutes to clean the fridge.
And an hour and a half to clean the kitchen…
Five years from now I will use another plan…
Definitely PLAN B. At least I’ve got five years to think
What Plan B is….
All I have to say is
Needles to say… a redundant quote… My bride was not amused!
Laughing to myself in Virginia.
Feeling like a bit of a twit…