"Then He sent them out to tell everyone about the kingdom of God and to heal the sick" Luke 9:11
At church one morning while looking at our weekly church bulletin, I noticed they were advertising a healing service coming up in a couple weeks. I KNEW I needed to attend that service with or without my husband. I had been keeping a prayer journal of all the verses that I kept reading, and attending a healing service seemed appropriate.
I had been reading stories about the woman whose faith was so great that she thought "If I just touch his robe I will be healed". She touched Jesus' feet and was healed instantly of her bleeding disorder. [Luke 8:44] I had read stories of the miraculous healing Jesus' performed while he walked here on Earth and kept a record of the ones that somehow kept coming up over and over.
Saturday, June 29, 2013, I was excited to be at the healing service at church. I had made up my mind I was going to keep my heart open to whatever it was that God wanted to show me, or teach me. We began the service, as we always do, with praise and worship music. This service was different though. All the praise and worship music was about healing, and restoring. I couldn't help but lift my arms up to God praising him for allowing a sickness to be an opportunity to draw closer to him. During the service, our pastor began teaching about the awesome healing power God has. It talks over and over in the new testament about being able to lay your hands on someone and heal them. Jesus did it, and he told the disciples they would be able to do it too. The verses the pastor was quoting were the exact same verses I had been studying and reading over and over and over again. This was far from coincidence. I realized I was resting on the right promise. The promise of healing that I read from the first day everything happened with my eye.
The pastor called the congregation to the alter if anyone was in need of physical healing. I had thought I would be one of the FEW people that went to the alter. WRONG! 90% of the congregation had gone up to the alter. As the pastor began going down the line in front of the stage placing his hands on people, they began to fall down. Yeah, fall down. I was puzzled by this. So I turned to my husband, whom I dragged down to the front, and quietly asked him why they were falling down. he said some people do, some people don't. He warned me that if I didn't fall down, in no way did that mean that I didn't receive anything from God. So I kept singing "Overcome" by Jeremy Camp and patiently awaited the moment the pastor would lay his hands on me and pray.
During the song "Overcome", I began to cry. Not tears of sadness, but tears of TRUTH. My eyesight in my right eye was not normal during this time. In fact, I couldn't see very well out of it at all. Everything was blurry. The truth is, God was right there with me. The truth is, He never left me nor did he ever forsake me. The truth is, I WILL overcome this obstacle, or rather mountain, and I will tell this mountain, fall into the sea, and it WILL be gone.
I had a Kleenex in my right hand as the pastor stood in front of me. I remember him holding the hand of mine that was clenching the Kleenex, and touching my face with his other hand. I can't begin to tell you what happened next, as I remember seeing a light, and then opening my eyes. I was sitting on the floor, tears pouring out of my eyes. I was slightly disoriented as I was trying to figure out HOW I got from standing to sitting on the floor. I looked to my right, and the lady that was once standing was now sitting next to me. I looked to my left, and the lady that was standing to my left was now laying on the floor. My husband came over to me after witnessing what had just happened, and helped me up. HOLY COW! What an experience that had been.
I'm not going to tell you my eyesight was miraculously normal again. I'm not going to tell you that I walked out of there with no evidence of illness or disease. I'm not even going to tell you that scientifically, I'm healed. I walked out of the church that night knowing I got to feel God's touch. I believe that God has the ability to enter our bodies at any time and touch every part of us at the same time, which is exactly what happened that Saturday night at church. I can do the possible. God does the IMpossible. I can do the natural. God does the SUPERnatural. I am a work in progress, and still every day I continue to praise him for EVERYTHING. The stuff I like and even more so, the stuff I DON'T. The trials AND the changes. We overcome by the words of our testimony and the blood of the lamb. God is bigger than THIS. God is bigger than ME. How awesome a perspective to have. NOTHING formed against ME will stand. Now to just get my eyesight back to normal. That would come, but will address that in another post. Until then, Oh Happy Day to be found in the presence of God!
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Monday, September 9, 2013
Hello, My name is _________
Worn out adjective 1. To be tired, or completely exhausted. 2. old, shabby, or of no use i.e. worn out shoes.
During my time of being on IV steroids, and during the 2 week course of oral steroids that followed, I felt worn out, by both definitions.
I was exhausted. When the side effect of insomnia was communicated to me, I didn't think it was that big of a deal. Insomnia is NO joke. I was functioning on about 3 hours of sleep a night. I would wake up at 3 am wide awake and start cleaning the house, making breakfast, doing laundry, etc. I had no idea what else to do. By the time I was supposed to head to work, I was ready for a nap. This cycle continued until I was almost done taking the oral steroid. To say the least, my routine was flipped upside down and turned inside out.
I kept thinking to myself, I feel like a burden to my husband. He has to help make dinner; He has to help with laundry; He has to help with the duties I am responsible for. Thus, making me feel like the second definition of worn out. Even more discouraging, I began feeling a sort of numbness down my arms. I had gained roughly 20 lbs of weight during the 2 week course of steroids. I remember looking at myself in the mirror, and not even recognizing the person staring back at me. With the amount of weight I had gained, my fingers were puffy, thus making it difficult to wear my wedding ring. The ring that represented the promise my husband had made to me, and the ring I loved wearing so dearly, was too tight for my fat, chubby, sausage like fingers.
As I stated previously, God speaks to me through music. One night I was feeling rather down about everything that had changed so drastically in a matter of a few weeks. I fell asleep with a heavy heart seriously doubting things would be "normal" again. Whatever "normal" really was. I awoke the next morning and began listening to the radio. The first words I heard were:
Yep, precisely how I was feeling. Finally, someone had put into song what I had been feeling. Someone understood I felt that way. Better yet, I wasn't the only one on this planet feeling this way, or to ever have felt as I was. The next verse was just the reminder I needed.
During my time of being on IV steroids, and during the 2 week course of oral steroids that followed, I felt worn out, by both definitions.
I was exhausted. When the side effect of insomnia was communicated to me, I didn't think it was that big of a deal. Insomnia is NO joke. I was functioning on about 3 hours of sleep a night. I would wake up at 3 am wide awake and start cleaning the house, making breakfast, doing laundry, etc. I had no idea what else to do. By the time I was supposed to head to work, I was ready for a nap. This cycle continued until I was almost done taking the oral steroid. To say the least, my routine was flipped upside down and turned inside out.
I kept thinking to myself, I feel like a burden to my husband. He has to help make dinner; He has to help with laundry; He has to help with the duties I am responsible for. Thus, making me feel like the second definition of worn out. Even more discouraging, I began feeling a sort of numbness down my arms. I had gained roughly 20 lbs of weight during the 2 week course of steroids. I remember looking at myself in the mirror, and not even recognizing the person staring back at me. With the amount of weight I had gained, my fingers were puffy, thus making it difficult to wear my wedding ring. The ring that represented the promise my husband had made to me, and the ring I loved wearing so dearly, was too tight for my fat, chubby, sausage like fingers.
As I stated previously, God speaks to me through music. One night I was feeling rather down about everything that had changed so drastically in a matter of a few weeks. I fell asleep with a heavy heart seriously doubting things would be "normal" again. Whatever "normal" really was. I awoke the next morning and began listening to the radio. The first words I heard were:
I’m Tired I’m worn
My heart is heavy
From the work it takes
To keep on breathing
I’ve made mistakes
I’ve let my hope fail
My soul feels crushed
By the weight of this world
My heart is heavy
From the work it takes
To keep on breathing
I’ve made mistakes
I’ve let my hope fail
My soul feels crushed
By the weight of this world
Yep, precisely how I was feeling. Finally, someone had put into song what I had been feeling. Someone understood I felt that way. Better yet, I wasn't the only one on this planet feeling this way, or to ever have felt as I was. The next verse was just the reminder I needed.
Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That you can mend a heart
That’s frail and torn
Let me know the struggle ends
That you can mend a heart
That’s frail and torn
I decided I was done with my pity party. I needed to do something about the weight I had gained, but that will come in another post. I have some AWESOME pictures to show you of my journey! I dove deep into God's word. I had to remind myself of who I was, and who he created me to be. My identity was NOT what was wrong with me. My identity did NOT come from a label of a disease. My identity DID come from God. Hello, my name is Child of the ONE true king. The same power that raised Christ from the grave, lives in me. The same power that can move mountains into a sea, lives in me. THAT'S who I am.
Enjoy the full version of Tenth Avenue North's song, Worn via YouTube. Know that God can restore and all that's dead inside, WILL be reborn. I'm living proof!
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Strangely Dim
Ryan and I have always enjoyed an active lifestyle. We both love playing and watching sports. In the fall of 2012, we played on our first co-ed softball league. I had never played softball, but I was looking forward to being on the same team with him and all of our closest friends. While I couldn't hit the ball that far, I was able to get on base a few times. I had never scored that fall, and I was disappointed. According to my awesome father in law, I was the most improved person on our team.
In the Spring, shortly before experiencing issues with my eye, Ryan and I decided to play co-ed softball again. We were super excited to start again and this year, I fully intended on scoring at least once. At my first bat, I hit the ball and got right on first base. Ryan was set to be at bat right behind me. He hit the ball wayyyyyy into the outfield and I scored my first run. I was so excited to finally have scored for the first time ever. I thought, What a great way to start the season off! Little did I know that one time scoring would be the last time I played.
After the MRI of my brain was completed, the doctor wanted to do another MRI of my spine. This would indicate if there were any lesions on my spinal cord. If there were lesions on my spinal cord, it would indicate where the next exacerbation, or attack, could happen. Once again, I headed down to the hospital around midnight and once again I spent the whole time thanking God for this very situation. Somewhere in my mind, I thought that this test would reveal things I was not prepared for. Instead of dwelling on that thought, I dwelled on the promise of Matthew 15:28 "Woman, you have great faith, I will do as you have asked."
Two days later, I received the call from the neurologist. Spinal MRI was NORMAL. Normal. what does that mean? Normal, as in everything was as it was supposed to be. No lesions. NOTHING that indicated anything was ever wrong. Normal. I cried. I wept. I jumped up and down. I screamed "THANK YOU, LORD!" I had never been more thankful in my LIFE. Shortly after learning of my normal MRI results, the doctor ordered a spinal tap. He wanted to test the CSF fluid to make sure he wasn't missing any other reason my eye was not normal. A week after the spinal tap was performed, I learned that my CSF was NORMAL. Normal, normal, normal. What a need to celebrate God's eternal love and mercy and grace.
That victory was short lived however. At my last check up with the neurologist, he decided he wanted me to start taking a medication to prevent another attack from happening. The medication was done as injectable .... that I had to administer. There were 4 different kinds of medications to choose from. As I left the doctor's office that day, I felt confused. I had to pick which medication to start taking.... all with different side effects. This was not a decision I would take lightly, and realized God and I had some talking to do.
Where does my faith come in when given the opportunity to take medication? God already had shown me He was going to heal me. I knew that in my heart. I don't want to be the type of believer that thinks, Oh God will save me, and then turn away from every avenue He provides to be saved, or rather, healed. The conversation God and I had went something like this:
ME: God, am I supposed to take medication for what is wrong
with me? How does taking medication glorify You, when
science will take all the credit?
GOD: Don't be afraid. Just have Faith and you will be healed, Luke 8:50
You can pray for anything, and if you believe that you've
already received it, it will be yours. Mark 11:22
God's got a sense of humor. He answered the first question, but not the second. I suppose that was the most important question anyhow. Now to tell my family and friends I was refusing the medication the specialists were wanting me to take.
I researched and researched and researched the medications. Possible side effects were: Pain at the injection site. flu like symptoms for 24-48 hours post injection. Suicidal tendencies. Insomnia. Fever. just to name a few. During this research period, the bottom line was this: these medications didn't do much more for preventing an attack as a seatbelt does in preventing a car accident. If it's going to happen, it's going to happen without my control. Why then, would I take medication that is going to make me feel the way the side effects are telling me I would feel? NOT for me, and God's got my back.
It was a difficult conversation that night. I sat Ryan down and explained to him what God was telling me about taking medication. I explained to him that I will change my diet, change my lifestyle, change my exercise habits and get HEALTHY. Do my body a favor and God by showing my body is God's temple. If I had another attack, 1 year, 5 years, 10 years down the road, I will choose the medication. Until then, I can't take medication for something I don't think I have. I believed I was healed. His response was this: "You're not doing nothing, you're still doing something. You're changing your lifestyle habits. You're not just waiting for God to reach down and say, 'You're healed.' I don't like this, but will support you."
God uses music to speak to me. Until the next post, enjoy the following song and listen to the lyrics. Francesca has such an angelic voice, but it was the lyrics that somehow spoke directly to me. When all the emotions of fear, disappointment, and struggle set in, fix your eyes on him, and somehow all those emotions will seem strangely dim.
In the Spring, shortly before experiencing issues with my eye, Ryan and I decided to play co-ed softball again. We were super excited to start again and this year, I fully intended on scoring at least once. At my first bat, I hit the ball and got right on first base. Ryan was set to be at bat right behind me. He hit the ball wayyyyyy into the outfield and I scored my first run. I was so excited to finally have scored for the first time ever. I thought, What a great way to start the season off! Little did I know that one time scoring would be the last time I played.
After the MRI of my brain was completed, the doctor wanted to do another MRI of my spine. This would indicate if there were any lesions on my spinal cord. If there were lesions on my spinal cord, it would indicate where the next exacerbation, or attack, could happen. Once again, I headed down to the hospital around midnight and once again I spent the whole time thanking God for this very situation. Somewhere in my mind, I thought that this test would reveal things I was not prepared for. Instead of dwelling on that thought, I dwelled on the promise of Matthew 15:28 "Woman, you have great faith, I will do as you have asked."
Two days later, I received the call from the neurologist. Spinal MRI was NORMAL. Normal. what does that mean? Normal, as in everything was as it was supposed to be. No lesions. NOTHING that indicated anything was ever wrong. Normal. I cried. I wept. I jumped up and down. I screamed "THANK YOU, LORD!" I had never been more thankful in my LIFE. Shortly after learning of my normal MRI results, the doctor ordered a spinal tap. He wanted to test the CSF fluid to make sure he wasn't missing any other reason my eye was not normal. A week after the spinal tap was performed, I learned that my CSF was NORMAL. Normal, normal, normal. What a need to celebrate God's eternal love and mercy and grace.
That victory was short lived however. At my last check up with the neurologist, he decided he wanted me to start taking a medication to prevent another attack from happening. The medication was done as injectable .... that I had to administer. There were 4 different kinds of medications to choose from. As I left the doctor's office that day, I felt confused. I had to pick which medication to start taking.... all with different side effects. This was not a decision I would take lightly, and realized God and I had some talking to do.
Where does my faith come in when given the opportunity to take medication? God already had shown me He was going to heal me. I knew that in my heart. I don't want to be the type of believer that thinks, Oh God will save me, and then turn away from every avenue He provides to be saved, or rather, healed. The conversation God and I had went something like this:
ME: God, am I supposed to take medication for what is wrong
with me? How does taking medication glorify You, when
science will take all the credit?
GOD: Don't be afraid. Just have Faith and you will be healed, Luke 8:50
You can pray for anything, and if you believe that you've
already received it, it will be yours. Mark 11:22
God's got a sense of humor. He answered the first question, but not the second. I suppose that was the most important question anyhow. Now to tell my family and friends I was refusing the medication the specialists were wanting me to take.
I researched and researched and researched the medications. Possible side effects were: Pain at the injection site. flu like symptoms for 24-48 hours post injection. Suicidal tendencies. Insomnia. Fever. just to name a few. During this research period, the bottom line was this: these medications didn't do much more for preventing an attack as a seatbelt does in preventing a car accident. If it's going to happen, it's going to happen without my control. Why then, would I take medication that is going to make me feel the way the side effects are telling me I would feel? NOT for me, and God's got my back.
It was a difficult conversation that night. I sat Ryan down and explained to him what God was telling me about taking medication. I explained to him that I will change my diet, change my lifestyle, change my exercise habits and get HEALTHY. Do my body a favor and God by showing my body is God's temple. If I had another attack, 1 year, 5 years, 10 years down the road, I will choose the medication. Until then, I can't take medication for something I don't think I have. I believed I was healed. His response was this: "You're not doing nothing, you're still doing something. You're changing your lifestyle habits. You're not just waiting for God to reach down and say, 'You're healed.' I don't like this, but will support you."
God uses music to speak to me. Until the next post, enjoy the following song and listen to the lyrics. Francesca has such an angelic voice, but it was the lyrics that somehow spoke directly to me. When all the emotions of fear, disappointment, and struggle set in, fix your eyes on him, and somehow all those emotions will seem strangely dim.
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