The World Race was one of the best things that I’ve ever done in my entire life. The degree to which I began to abandon things was astronomical and I couldn’t have gotten more wrecked doing something else. My life was changed, my character was completely transformed and I’ll just never be the same.
And neither will my body… maybe.
We always joke around in my house that the World Race “messes you up,” both spiritually and physically. I was exposed to all kinds of things overseas. Aside from my entire squad getting sick our first month in Peru, others picked up typhoid, dengue fever, all sorts of worms and parasites, and I – along with others – got malaria and giardia.
I’ve struggled with my health for over the last year. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to get physically better. And after a year of getting sick every single month, my mom found a doctor who was willing to see me for no charge. It was a huge blessing since I’m now in the class of Americans who have no health insurance. I found out that I had giardia. While the doc gave me medicine to abolish the little protozoan, it didn’t help. And the worst part was that they weren’t willing to dish out another $150 prescription for it.
I was left hanging.
Finally I decided to turn to God. I know, I know… I’m a missionary and should’ve done that a long time ago. Don’t worry, I did. The problem was that I was pissed at God this time, but convinced that He was going to heal me. So at the end of January while at a conference I received prayer and felt better. (True story)
Over a month later and I was still feeling better; I had gone an entire month without getting sick! It was a miracle! As soon as I started telling people that I was healed, guess what? That’s right. I got sick again.
But this time it came back with vengeance.
I’ve been up for the last 27 hours, the last 12 of them wide awake trying not to get sick while about half of that… well… undoubtedly sick (I hate porcelain now). So what do I do?
Now I’m a firm believer that God still heals. Why? Because I’ve seen it with my own two eyes and His healing touch has flowed through my two hands. He also commissions us as disciples to go do it (read Matthew 10). But what do you do when it’s not reciprocated on you (a selfish question, but…)?
Again, I am angry and upset. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I think it’s more that I’m furious at the fact that hell’s wrath is being unleashed on my stomach and no amount of prayer seems to stop it. Yes, I still love God and yes I’m still going to keep doing what I’m doing. It just sucks.
Lame, I know.
But as one of my friends emailed me, “the Lord will sustain you on your sickbed and restore you” (Ps.41.3).
I pray that He does… because I’m sick and tired of being sick. And hell ain’t gonna hold me back.
