Forewarning: this is a really long post. But I felt that the only way I could give my testimony is in writing. I’m no eloquent speaker or novelist, but I began to write and felt God laid it on my heart to do so. I pray that it is a blessing and hope for others as much as it was for myself. Because I need you to see that this is not even about me at all. It’s about Him. The other day a coworker of mine that has recently completed her first year of medical school made mention that left-handed females who have family members with a history of an auto-immune disease are at higher risk to develop the same condition. I began to look at the cold hard facts as fear began to grip my heart. I am a female (let’s be obvious here), left-handed, and my grandmother has been diagnosed with an auto-immune disease known as systemic lupus. Now, if you go to the site for the U.S. National Library of Medicine you can begin to get a perception of what lupus does to your body as it progresses, and also the symptoms of the disease are listed. It is quite scary. Now being diagnosed with anxiety disorder a couple of years ago you can imagine the thoughts that begin to fill my head. “What if I get this disease? What if I already have it? What if I die?” I manage to push those thoughts to the back of my mind and ignore them for the rest of the day. I wake up in the middle of the night as if I’d never fallen asleep. All the thoughts from earlier have been brought to the very forefront of my conscience as I notice my legs are asleep and I can’t feel them. My adrenaline kicks into overdrive and before I know it I am experiencing a full blown panic attack. I begin to pray and call out to the Lord, but the fear becomes overwhelming and I begin to shake. I crawl into the bed with my mother (yes, I am 23 years old) and wake her up to pray with me. The reassurance of her voice and prayers eventually begin to calm me down. Once again, I feel defeated. I’ve had many panic attacks in the past two years, same effects, same symptoms, yet if feels like the first time every single time. The devil knows which buttons to push. But knowing I’m under the blood, knowing that he can’t really touch me physically (Psalms 23:4) unless God allows it, should be reassurance enough. And you begin to realize that, wait a minute, God allowed this to happen to me. My first reactions vary from thoughts of “Okay which sin have I committed? Am I doubting Thomas?” to “Why does God let me suffer?” Then I am reminded of Paul, who was buffeted with a thorn in his side, who sought the Lord thrice, and our precious Savior replying with “My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Cor. 12:9) See when I was out in the world I thought I was in control, independent, never needing anyone or anything but myself. When I was diagnosed I didn’t understand then what I understand now. I had to be brought to a place (a really really low place) where I wasn’t able to depend on anything but God. Even now having been saved by His grace and washed in His blood I am continually being humbled and taught to look at Him and Him alone. So now when the deceiver comes to bring me thoughts of death and destruction, I can boldly say, “I’m not going to die.” (Psalms 118:17) “And If I do? I’m going home to be with my Lord.” Because I am daily being persuaded that neither the tragedies and effects of this life, nor demons from the pits of hell, the things which are happening to me now, or the things which might happen to me later, can separate me from God’s love in Jesus. (Romans 8:38-39) I also believe in Jesus, my healer. I believe that He is able. I not only believe, but I know. I must not allow the devil to steal that. I am told in scripture as a child of God that He set Christ at His own right hand in heavenly places when He raised Him from the dead, and in the very next chapter we are also raised up and made to sit together in those very same heavenly places in our Lord. (Ephesians 1:20, 2:6) You see the devil has no authority in those places. And by the blood of Jesus that washed me I now have the boldness to enter into the holy place with my petition to God. (Hebrews 10:19) I now must throw at you one more obstacle. What if the healing never comes? What if I live out the rest of my days every now and then waking up in the dead of night, heart racing, shaking all over, feeling like my airways are closing up? I tell you something bolder. Even if the healing doesn’t come, God is still faithful. He is still good, and I will bless His name. Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him. (Job 13:15) As for the lupus, if it does come, whether it be today, tomorrow, or four years from now (if the Lord tarries), I know it will work for my good and God’s glory. It will be my testimony. A testimony of “Wow you go through all of that, and you still believe in God? Why do you do it?” and my reply.. (Rev. 12:11) Brother B.H. Clendennen once said that we must start singing and preaching again about the blood, and death will no longer have a hold on us mentally or spiritually. Because it doesn’t. Jesus Christ took care of that long ago when He died, took the keys of death, heaven, and hell, and rose again the third day. 2 Corinthians 4:17-18 says “For our affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; while we look not at the things which are seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.” One day this physical body, full of sickness and fear and death, will pass away. I hold onto this hope, that one day I will see the face of Jesus, and He is what makes it all worth it. Oh it soothes my doubts And calms my fears And it dries all my tears Oh the blood that gives me strength From day to day It will never lose its power!
Posted on: Thu, 24 Jul 2014 20:01:50 +0000
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