As I lay there in my tan hospital bed, all I kept thinking about was how annoying being sick was and how much I wanted it all to be over. Even the TV with HBO was losing its luster for me. I had been laid up for a week now… how long was this going to continue?!
Not long after these thoughts, I actually started to feel pretty good. The best I’d felt yet, in fact. “Ok, maybe I’m better now,” I thought.
The nurse casually walked into the room about to carry out her usual checkup process, thermometer, and blood pressure device in hand.
Now, over the last several days, the doc had been telling me that he wanted to see my fever gone for at least 24 hours before they “discharged” me. As the nurse approached my bed, I was feeling fairly confident she’d find no fever, and I would get that much closer to the 24-hour goal.
She took my blood pressure… normal. Then came the telling test. Fever??
“Low grade fever,” she explained.
It was a bit surprising. As she left the room, I was in disbelief. “There’s no way,” I thought. “I feel fine and don’t even have chills.”
That’s when I called out to Jesus and asked Him what was going on. “I really want to get out of here! Hundreds of people and I have been asking you for healing the past week!” “What’s the deal, God?!”
I knew what I wanted to do. I prayed again and asked the Lord to take the temperature away. Then I proceeded to use my call button to call the nurse back to retake my temperature.
As I waited on her to return, I was supremely confident that I was healed and that she’d find no fever. I pondered how awesome it would be to see her face after she checked the numbers and how I’d be able to point her to faith in Jesus. On and on my mind wandered. I was getting pumped!
My high hopes were crushed. The fever remained.
When she left the second time, I felt confused, surprised, and rather angry.
“Why did this happen, God?” “This was the perfect opportunity to show Your greatness, love, and mercy!”
Then He spoke calmly to me.
“I don’t have to prove myself to you, that nurse, or anyone else.” “I’ve already proved my love on the cross.”
So, what happened in that moment? Well, I had forgotten the cross. I had forgotten why I even had life or hope to begin with.
Just because He hadn’t healed me right away, didn’t discredit Him or His unrelenting love for me. He brought me back to my roots… the cross. HIS power. HIS timing. HIS will be done.
Thank you, Jesus.
Two days later, I finally left the hospital. I was in two different hospitals a total of 8 days. Medical staff diagnosed me with amoebic dysentery, coupled with a mysterious bacterial infection. I was treated with constant IV’s with two antibiotics.
Most of it was pretty miserable, but it is what it is. God still used the experience to remind me that He still wants my heart.
Again, I just want to say thank you SO much for all who prayed for me, supported me with messages, or whatever else you did!! I was in disbelief at how many people were on social media showing support. It really made me feel loved. Now… back to teaching!
