I stood in the shower, tears melting into the spray from the shower head on my cheeks. There was a huge lump under my arm that I had named Nebraska; my skin was on fire; I couldn’t keep food down because of my incessant coughing. And the fevers weren’t giving me any confidence in my health’s outlook, either. Or the weight loss. With nothing else to do, I sang (as well as my tortured throat would allow): “I believe you’re my healer. I believe you are all I need. I believe you’re my portion. I believe you’re more than enough for me. Jesus, you’re all I need.” This was followed with, “Nothing is impossible for you. You hold my world in your hands.”
Many days it was all I could do to sing this song, or others like it. But it was enough.
Other days, when I had more strength, I would walk what Mark Batterson calls prayer circles around our house. And that was good, too.
But really, there is very little I did. All I really did was push past the fear and doubt and embrace a stubbornness that God and I were going to win. The hundreds or thousands of people around the world who learned about my condition did much more than me. Their prayers encompassed and blanketed the world, and sent a sweet savor up to Heaven. I know many of us have a tendency to embrace the “If it be thy will” prayers, but I have a hard time believing that many of the people praying for me did this. I believe they went something more like this: “Father, heal him!” Why? First of all, because I know a lot of the people praying for me. But most of all because God did. In four months.
Why was I healed when so many others aren’t? What made me special? Was it, as I’ve been told over and over again, my attitude? Was it because of the way people prayed bold prayers of faith over me? I do know that it was a combination of both of these things, but I’ve seen people with as much faith or more than me still die from this, and I myself have prayed boldly for someone only to watch them pass away two days after. Was it because of my chemo? Or the vitamins I was taking? Yes, I know that both of these were natural parts of this process. But NO ONE was expecting me to be over this in the time it took, if I got over it at all. And how can those things explain the complete lack of side effects I experienced (apart from fatigue)? Another crazy thing? Yes, we learned at the end of four months of treatment that I was cancer free. But it could have easily happened at three months. Or even two. My cancer-free date of 5/9/14 was just the day that we got the results of our test.
Or was it just not my time to go? Most assuredly it was not, but I’ve known others who went out when it arguably wasn’t their time. (Don’t believe that’s possible? For a converse of this idea, read about Hezekiah in the Old Testament.) Was it because I never gave up? Surely that was a part of it. I’ve seen many who gave up who only survived for a few days past that point. They were given a choice, and they took it. Who could fault them for that? However, I don’t believe I was ever pushed to that point. People would often come into my office at work and say, “Well, I shouldn’t be complaining. Look at what you’re going through.” And in my head I would say, “You know, this really hasn’t been that bad.”
So why me? Why have I been chosen when so many others haven’t been? (Including some in my own family.)
Can I be honest with you? I think that sometimes people need a rallying point. A lightning rod, if you will. They need the go-ahead to go ahead and believe that they can make it, too.
We’ve lived in this twilight land for so long that we don’t know whether we’re moving into daylight or nighttime. We want healing to be true. We want to know that God’s promises are as valid today as they were thousands of years ago. But we just don’t know. We want to know this God and trust in this God and love this God, but can we? Or should we just get jaded? Do we just give in and call anyone who believes in this stuff a hypocrite or a mislead huckster? The evidence seems to mount and mount against healing and the God who says He heals, but deep in our hearts I think we still want it to be true. I think there’s a part of us that needs it to be true.
The question, after all, isn’t just “does God heal?” The question is also, “does God love me?”
When we finally knew we were dealing with stage four Hodgkin’s Lymphoma and chemotherapy, I determined that I was not going to come through this thing alone. What I mean is, if I could change just one life through this process, if I could show just one person how real Jesus and the Father were through my suffering, then everything else would be worth it. And I believe that’s exactly what’s happened. God’s made me a gateway healing. Come on in.
“By His wounds you have been healed.” Do you believe that? Can you believe that? You should. It happened to me. It can happen to you, too. I don’t care if it’s cancer or an incurable disease or an imbalance in your body or brokenness in your family. God can heal you just as easily as He healed me. Healing wasn’t just for the old Apostles. It’s happening, today. His stripes heal just as well now as they did back at the first church.
I’m not singing the “Healer” song for me any more. I’m singing it for you. He is our healer. Now it’s your turn.
Would you do me two favors? First, share this with someone who needs it. Second of all, tell me what you need prayer for. You can either do this in the comments below, or if that’s a little too open for you then email me at email@example.com. I would love to pray with you, and if it’s okay with you I’d love to get other people praying for you as well. Let’s stand together with some rabid faith and really believe God’s as good as His Word. And, by all means, when your healing comes, don’t keep it to yourself. Tell me. Tell the world. Scream it from the rooftops.
I will have at least one more post detailing all of the specifics and little miracles of my healing. But in the mean time, what do you say we start a movement? I’m down. How about you? =)
2 Kings 20:1-7
1 Peter 2:24
Guglielmucci, M. (2008) Healer. This is Our God. Integrity Media.
Image (c) Can Stock Photo
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