Here is a lie that I have been hearing a lot in my head lately:
You are forgotten.
Your squad mates and teammates have forgotten you.
Your family has forgotten you.
Your friends back home have forgotten you.
And God has forgotten you, too.
I know when I hear this it is a lie, but the enemy wants me to believe it, because if I believe this then I am not feeling God’s love and grace, and when I am not being filled up with Him, I can turn to other things to fill me up and distract me.
Let’s put this into context.
Here at the church we’re working with in Colerain, many people are coming to experience and know Christ. There is a specific ministry that is doing a lot of this: their healing on the streets ministry. We got debriefed and trained on how to do this last week. Going into this training, I was unsure of what to think, is this hokey stuff or what? Don’t get me wrong, I want to believe, but there is still some doubt/skepticism there at times. Being a woman who loves knowledge and the Bible, I was surprised at how solid this teaching was, and how they were implementing this thing biblically. The idea is that they want to create opportunities to pray for people, so that the willing public can experience the presence of God, in his spirit, love, and peace. The crazy thing is that when they pray for these people, embracing their God-given authority, things happen! I’m not kidding, miracles happen!! People are healed! But not everybody…
Come back to me. I have had people praying over me for my narcolepsy (read more about narcolepsy in my previous blogs, if you haven’t yet!) since October of last year at training camp. It was at that time, in a leap of faith, I went off my medication, expectant for healing. However, healing didn’t come instantly. I will credit the fact that I could sleep through the night to God as partial healing, because previously I couldn’t sleep through the entire night without waking up and insomnia. So that was kind of a big deal, but I still fall over when I laugh, I still need a nap almost every day.
Then we had this training over healing, and I had a feeling he was going to ask if anyone wanted prayer. I didn’t volunteer myself right away but one of my teammates did. In that moment I felt the most love from my squad that I ever had, and this love drove me to think that this was it, this was when it was going to happen, I was going to be healed!!
However, it ended up being that I was not. I really realized it the next day when I fell asleep in church during the sermon. I was so confused, and I cried out to God, why? So many seem to be getting healed, why not me? I know you can take this away, so why don’t you? There were also things I was putting on myself, because I wanted to experience this healing but I also wanted my squad to be right there to experience it with me. Everyone would ask, do you think your healed? Like is it for real? But I knew it wasn’t, it was made clear every time I laughed a bit and felt that same old weakness to fall. For a second, I just felt like God wasn’t hearing me, and that maybe he did forget little ole me.
I expressed all this in my heart, but then I heard God say back to me:
“I have not healed you fully yet because I want you to know how much I love you, just as you are. I love you so much exactly as you are, and don’t you ever for a second think that I have forgotten you. You are my precious child; you are special. I always want nothing but good for you, but everything comes in my perfect timing.“
Wow.
Now that is beautiful. That is powerful. Even as I write this, I hear him telling it to me over again and I am brought to tears by the overwhelming love of my Father. The ringer is this: I am not healed physically yet because God wanted to use this moment to teach me, to express to me how deeply he loves me, just as I am. Not that I deserved his love, or did anything for it, or that I have to do anything to earn it…I don’t have to be healed, I don’t have to preach on the streets, I don’t have to look a certain way, or do this or that, I just have to come to him, just as I am, and he accepts me. That is grace, my friends, that is the indescribably beautiful gift of grace.
I am still a girl with narcolepsy, but that does not define me. The love of my Father defines me. If I get healed tomorrow, well then to God be the glory, what a testament to his power it will be. But if I never see physical healing this side of eternity, even more glory to God, because I wake up and face every day knowing where my strength and joy comes from, and people will see that, and know, it comes from the Lord, my maker, who has not forgotten me.
