Imagine that you’ve spent your whole life as an athlete, competing in school, in college, and into adulthood. Imagine that for you, sports are an expression of praise and worship, in thanks to the Creator who gave you such a strong, athletic body. Now imagine that at age 45 you are struck down by a mystery illness that leaves you unable to work out - at all. You can’t even take a walk. And eventually, you can’t work anymore, and you have to give up a career that you loved, along with all of your volunteer activities. You can’t even go to church anymore. In fact, you can’t get out of the house except for medical appointments. Imagine how that must shake you to your very core. Welcome to my life.
When I first became ill, I had no inkling that I’d never get better. But as the weeks stretched into months, I started desperately praying to God for healing. Friends prayed for me. Family members prayed for me. People at my church prayed for me. And I was not healed. In fact, doctors didn’t even know what was wrong with me. I needed a miracle, and I didn’t get one. As the months turned into years, and the healing prayers remained unanswered, I had some deep soul searching to do. How could God allow my sports - something that I used for God’s glory - to be taken away from me? Why wouldn’t God heal me, when God is the Great Healer? Who am I if I’m not the physically strong and able person I always was? What was God doing in my life??
After much seeking of God, and many sessions with a Christian psychologist, it finally came down to what I believed about God: did I believe God loved me and that God wanted the best for me? Did I trust God? I had always thought I trusted God, but this - this was life shattering. Could I trust God in this? I slowly began to realize that yes, I could - I could believe God loved me and I could trust God for my life. So I said, “I trust you, Lord,” and suddenly I felt a weight lift off from my chest, a weight I didn’t even know I was carrying. I felt free - free from having to have the answers, free from having to pray for my healing. If I trusted God, then either the healing would come or it wouldn’t, and either way, I knew that God was with me. I drew on the inspiration from the story in Daniel about the three Israelites who were going to be thrown into the fiery furnace if they didn’t bow down to foreign gods. My paraphrase of their expression of faith was this: “I know that God is well able to heal me, but even if He doesn’t, I will serve the Lord.”
I came to the conclusion that whatever God wanted out of my life, whatever purpose there was, my being healthy was not critical to that purpose. Apparently, God’s plan for using me for the Kingdom didn’t rely on my health or my physical strength. And I discovered that being disabled has some advantages - for one, I have the luxury of time. I have the time to spend in the mornings praying and meditating. I also discovered that God wanted me to write. And while I can’t write for very long periods of time because of my illness, I can write something each day. So I started this blog where I share my insights about what I learned in this difficult journey. And it turns out people are encouraged by what I write. And through the wonders of technology, I am able to encourage people via Facebook. Many times I’ve shared thoughts or quotes and people reply that what I shared was just what they needed to hear that day. So, even though I’m stuck in a rocking chair at home, God can, and does, still use me!
I could remain angry, bitter, and confused as to why God doesn’t heal me. I could live daily with questions and spiritual unrest. But I choose to trust that God is who He says He is - that He is love and He is trustworthy. I choose to live in faith, trusting God to care for me and to help me each and every day. While I still would love to have a healing miracle, God has given me a different miracle: God has given me peace. And that is truly a gift!
