After three weeks of grey skies, lots of rain and cool temperatures, the sun has come out--for two days in a row. The air is still cool, especially when the occasional cloud floats in front of the sun. But a lot of Brits were out in their gardens today, soaking up the sun.
I was going to start this posting with "Oh the sun never shines in Great Britian" sung to the tune of "It never rains in Southern California..." but upon thinking about the lyrics of the song, I found it just too depressing.
Another song was much more appropriate: "Here comes the sun."
Some of you have been following my blog for quite a while now. You've read that I struggle with fatigue, tremours, muscle weakness, and foggy thinking at times. And most of you have been praying for me. I so appreciate all your prayers.
It took over two years, but I finally was given an appointment with an endocrinologist. I saw Dr. Dove on Tuesday, 8th May. After looking over the list of symptoms I presented to him, reviewing the results of all the blood tests I've had over the last year, (which were listed in my chart), he checked my glands for any lumps that might indicate problems. He found none.
Dr. Dove checked my blood pressure, lying down and standing up. The result brought some great news--my blood pressure was very good, and that I should live a long life. I found that so reassuring.
Although the previous blood tests showed normal results, and there were to tell-tale lumps that should not be there, Dr. Dove ordered more blood tests and a 24-hour urine collection. The purpose of the urine collection was to track cortisol levels, which would indicate if my hormones were not functioning properly. I am scheduled to return to see him on 10th July to find out the results.
Ever since I've been home, I've been having some valuable insights.
In January, before I left for Florida, our vicar called me and The Maverick up for prayer. At that point, The Maverick gave testimony that he was healed, and all the pain in his neck and back had gone.
At his happiest is my husband when can be active and has lots to do. This energy gets channeled into his passion for bicycling. He wanted to be healthy enough to ride a bike again. And not just for the sake of riding--but for the opportunity to ride about 80 to 100 miles a day over five weeks; beginning at John O'Groats to Land's End, across Southern England, across the English Channel and then biking to Nice, France. The purpose of the ride is to raise finances and awareness of human trafficking and the fight agains child prostitution and pornography.
I began to think about passion--how it creates hunger, desire that borders on despiration. And I saw a connection between caring passionately about others that creates a demanding yearning to be healthy. It's the kind of determination that God honours--because it makes one stir up faith in the heart.
The Maverick mixed desire with an expectation of healing that would not be denied.
The realisation became clear to me, that my faith and expectation for healing were latent, passive. Intellectually, I know God heals. Yet, my focus wasn't on God, but rather on looking to doctors. I was walking the long, tedious, frustrating and prolonged path of seeking a solution from science.
Because I was "busy sleeping my life away" due to fatigue, I wasn't focusing on what God might be saying to me. Going to the doctors is appropriate. After all, God calls people to be doctors, nurses, nurse-practitioners, mid-wives, etc. But my focus was on what they could do for me, and not on God.
It was as if I was willing--even wanted--to have something wrong with me. If I couldn't function, well, perhaps it excused me from taking on too much responsibility.
The other day, I became angry about something. Small though it was, the result is that it caused me to (1) have energy that needed to be directed and (2) moved me to action. By holding onto the anger, it created a productive energy.
As I was later standing in the bedroom, I realised that back in 1994 I had experienced a similiar kind of anger. I was in Texas, studying in the School of Writing, at YWAM's University of the Nations. Pain radiated from my lower back down my left leg. I couldn't sit in a chair comfortably. I listened to all my lectures lying on the floor. I did my homework flat on the bed.
Finally I was so frustrated I got angry. It was the kind of anger that said, "I'm tired of this situation." It was the kind of anger that stirred up boldness to pray this prayer: "God, either You can heal me or You can't. Either Your word is true, or it isn't. I can't be flat on my back and be an active writer at the same time. Either You heal me, or I'm going back to Indiana and living a second-best life."
From that point onward, I "had to have it", healing. The resources for treatment presented themselves. My back was treated and responded to treatment. Something inside me reached up to my Heavenly Father and took hold of His promises--faith arose from within me.
As I stood remembering that incident 18 years ago, the Holy Spirit seemed to be communicating to me that I needed to once again stir up righteous anger toward complacency. It was time for my spirit to rise up, grab hold of faith, and procure what Jesus paid for on the cross.
I remembered what Jesus said about the kingdom: "And from the days of John the Baptist until the present time, the kingdom of heaven has endured violent assault, the violent men seize it by force [as a precious prize--a share in the heavenly kingdom is sought with most ardent zeal and intense exertion]. Matthew 11:12
I haven't always been sure of what that passage meant. If Jesus tells us to rest from our labours, and to be at peace, how could we be violent? Yet, the word "violent" in this passage means forceful. According to Strongs Concordance, in this passage, the word "violent" in Hebrew is biastes. It refers to a person who strives to obtain the privileges of the kingdom of heaven with the utmost eagerness and effort.
In my mind, I remembered all the times I'd said to people: "I want my life back." Over the last couple of weeks it has been made clear to me that instead of simply "wanting my life back", I had to make an effort to TAKE my life back.
So, now I am determined to once again see The Holy Spirit restore life to my body. (Romans 8:11)
On 1st May, I was lying on my bed, resting before we went to the Parish Prayer Supper that evening. As my body rested, my heart and mind were busy. I was finally ready to admit that perhaps part of my unwellness could be psychologically based. I was ready to get serious about healing. So I prayed, "Lord Jesus, if my illness is psychosomatic/psychological, then deal with me. Show me the root of my fears, anxieties, frustration, or whatever. But if the fatique and retinue of maladies is actually physical, biologically based, then please reveal it."
So whilst I'm waiting for the result of the blood tests, I am going to be determinedly examining my heart and mind, asking the Holy Spirit to lead me on this journey.
And why? Because I want to be a productive Child of God. I want to walk in the destiny God planned for me. Because I want to be a prolific writer. I want to use my gift to encourage people. I want to write stories that lead people to fall in love with Jesus. And I have to have a clear mind and physical energy to do that. I need to travel to do research--which means I need to have energy and strength. I want to be a servant who brings glory to the God who calls me by name.
Serving Jesus, Author of our faith,