One beautiful Sunday morning last January, I came home from walking the hilly streets of Atlanta, Georgia. Not far from my residence there are many areas where you can power-walk to your heart’s delight.
You can go for miles, if you have good health. But, when I got to my farthest point that day, I began to falter. My strength felt depleted, and I still had three miles to go to get home.
I made it, but I felt something wasn’t right. It was the following day that I came down very ill. I spent the next two weeks trying to nurse myself. I was experiencing severe chills and intense muscle pain all over my body.
I couldn’t sleep, so I had to stay up all night taking Theraflu and Ibuprofen. After a week and a half of this misery, I called for an appointment to see my primary care doctor, but I had no luck, so I went straight to Urgency Care. I thought I had the flu, since I didn’t take my annual flu shot, and ironically the symptoms were similar.
The Nurse Practitioner at Urgency Care gave me the news of my condition. The good news, she said, was that I didn’t have the flu. The bad news, after having had my blood examined, was I had a bad infection. They confirmed that by giving me a copy of the lab report that showed the very high white blood cell count in my body.
She advised me to go straight to the hospital. I did, but first I went home to get an overnight bag. I stopped at Starbucks to pick up a coffee, then I drove to the Emergency Room of the nearest hospital. I was required to stay there for three days under observation.
Since I live alone, I had a difficult time coping after I left the hospital. I had to keep some semblance of order in my life, but my illness wouldn’t subside. It continued its merry course right through the middle of March.
During my worse moments (the entire month of February), I looked for God, but I didn’t seem to find Him. I asked Him to clear my chills and pain, but nothing happened. Not the hospital staff, nor the many doctors that visited me in my room recommended a single dose of medicine, except for a cocktail of pain killers.
I prayed, but I was frustrated with God that He hadn’t done anything for me so far. I am a believer and a devout Catholic. My children, my daughter-in-law, and my older sister would call me regularly to find out about me, and to remind me that they were praying for me.
This is my experience with my illness and with God that I wish to share: My own prayers didn’t take the chills or the pain away, not immediately anyway. When I laid in bed at the hospital, it was the regular doses of pain killers that helped me through the day and night. Once the hospital staff had taken all the blood samples that they needed and found absolutely nothing wrong with me, I was released to go home.
A week after I left the hospital, my Primary Care doctor called me and recommended that I have a colonoscopy and an endoscopy done to find out how I could have gotten so sick. That procedure proved that I was healthy, except for some bacteria found in my stomach. I was given antibiotics, and as a result my chills and pain subsided completely. My strength has returned, and my body feels totally renewed.
Today, I move around as if nothing had happened. I am back to my daily exercises and hobbies, and my life is as normal as it can be.
I looked for the “miracle from God” in all of this, and I believe I’ve found it. It wasn’t in an immediate healing by Jesus Christ, but it was in being guided in the right direction to seek professional help and prayers.
You see, even though God may remain silent at times and even distant, He will never abandon us. In my case, He simply put doctors, nurses, and family members to work on my behalf. My family and relatives came in with strong prayers, and therein lies an enormous source of power. Certainly, a lot more than I could muster!
My faith faltered during my ordeal, and I became frustrated with God for not having given me a quick solution. When lost, don’t despair. Reach out to friends and family to pray for you. Let their sincere prayers reach out to God on your behalf.
Last Sunday was a beautiful day, and I went road biking long distance. I felt the miracle of life reach my own soul. I was free of the bonds of my illness.
God may be silent at times, but don’t leave Him. He’s probably preparing the best possible route that you must take to get you well. You see, what I wanted and needed the most was my health back. But I was asking Him, instead, to cure my chills and pains by touching me with His hands.
It is God’s will that will prevail. Our job is to wait patiently. Throughout all the exams that I was subjected to by my doctors and nurses in the last two months, I was found free of cancer, blood disease, ulcers and other possible bad things. I am 72 years-old, so I don’t have the health of a forty-year-old anymore. However, I have thanked God since I came out of my personal storm.
Don’t beg God for anything! He already knows what you and I need before we ask Him. I begged Him to heal me of my illness, but He remained silent. However, I got my health back as if nothing had happened. That’s the miracle I was hoping for. For that alone, I am grateful to my family, friends, and relatives, but especially God!
I hope that this short story of my recent adventure into the world of severe pain and unbearable chills helps people to find their way to God for help and comfort. I found myself totally lost, but not hopeless. I reached out for help and I received it. No one should ever give up on God, regardless of the severity of the problem. To stay with Him shows faith. And to wait patiently for Him shows belief.
Guest posted by Melissa Wick of Conspiracy Talk News