The other day I was reminded of something that God did for me many years ago . . . But before I tell you what He did, let me give you some context.
There was a time in my life when I was in and out of the doctor’s over seemingly regular symptoms. The symptoms got worse in my thirties, and I eventually discovered I had an autoimmune disease. I didn’t think much of it because I figured I could manage it by avoiding certain foods. What I didn’t know is that the “thing” poisoning my body was found in almost every food, and extremely difficult to avoid.
A few days after my 39th birthday, I got much sicker than usual, and drove to the emergency room at night. I told the doctors about the autoimmune condition but they didn’t know much about it. It’s one of those diseases that is generally uncommon here in Africa. I was given a one-month prescription to address the symptoms, and I began the treatment immediately. On the second day, I started to get worse. A bit of research led me to discover that the “thing” poisoning my body was an ingredient in the prescribed medicine. I made this discovery on a Saturday night. I was completely baffled about what to do!
The following day—Sunday—I woke up feeling worse than before I went to hospital. As I prayed that morning, I told God that this disease was going to kill me. Then I went on to tell Him that despite how I was feeling, I would drag myself to church expecting that He would turn the Sunday service into a healing service.
I got to church and in the middle of the service, the Senior Pastor (who wasn’t leading the service that day) got up and said, ” I hear God say that today is a healing day. If you have an incurable disease, please stand up.” I still remember his exact words! At first I wasn’t sure I had heard the right thing so I stayed seated. He repeated it and this time I stood up. Two other people in the congregation also responded.
He told the people seating next to us to lay their hands on us. Adding that God would use their hands to heal. The Senior Pastor said a prayer and we sat down. As the service went on, I heard a gentle voice say that I shouldn’t take my medicine any more. I went home and didn’t tell anyone what had happened. But I stopped taking the medicine.
A couple of months later I told God that I would start eating the food that poisoned me before. And I added that this would be a test of whether the condition was really gone. (Where was my faith?) After months of testing, I found that those things did not trouble my body any more. That was over ten years ago.
If I did not have a friendship with Jesus in which I was free to boldly ask for healing, I would either be long dead or spending a majority of my time and money in hospital. But because of God’s mercy and grace towards me, I am here today to testify!
To God be the glory!