This week I've regressed considerably, and my symptoms are often horrific. After getting so sick in January, I had hope that this semester would go something like this:
1. I ask you all to pray me out of this crisis
2. You pray
3. I gradually and continuously heal and tell you about each step of healing so we can celebrate answered prayer together.
But this journey continues to be so up and down, with far more downs than ups. I am not continuously healing — at least not in any discernible way — and so rather than continue to post updates detailing my ups and downs, I think I'm just going to ask you a really big favor:
Would you commit to praying for me through the end of the semester? This is journey is hard. I have no words, it's so very hard. And I know that even when there are signs of healing, I'll need you to continue to fight for me in the spiritual realm because of the likelihood of subsequent regression.
A student in my PhD program had a heart attack a week ago and almost died. His major organs stopped working, along with his heart, and the doctor told his wife there was no hope. She needed to let him go. She asked if they'd keep him hooked up to his life lines just two more hours, so the doctor did. Before the two hours were up, her husband woke up and was lucid. He was so excited to see her.
For the next week a massive crew of Christians prayed for him. First we prayed for his kidneys, and lo and behold, his kidneys started working. Then we prayed for another organ, and it started working. And so on and so forth until he was healthy enough to be discharged. The doctors are baffled. They've never seen anything like it.
I keep clinging to this hope that the same thing might happen with me. Maybe, with enough prayer, I'll see improvements every day, week, and month. Maybe, with enough prayer, I'll heal enough that every day isn't an excruciating battle. And maybe, one day, with enough prayer, I'll improve enough that I can return to a semi-normal life. Maybe it will be the sort of thing that baffles onlookers, that makes them wonder at a God who reaches into our dusty, dying bodies, and restores them.
I realize that God may not heal me. Somehow, a life of sickness may be God's best for me. It has been for many people before me. Because somehow, a life of sickness can do the same thing as a miraculous physical healing: it can make people wonder at a God who reaches into our hearts and restores them in the face of ongoing suffering. I suppose it's easier for me to accept the possibility of lots more sickness with all of you praying. Surely God must be doing something really good through all this if he's allowing, or causing, this sickness in spite of your fervent prayers.
But I'm still hoping for healing.
My semester ends the last week of May. If you would commit to praying for these things through May, I'd be so grateful:
2. Protection from the Enemy
3. Mental, emotional, spiritual, and physical stamina
4. Protection from greater sickness. I'm know that my current illness could morph into something worse. And to be honest, my doctor is surprised and encouraged that it hasn't. I imagine it hasn't because of your prayers.
5. Wisdom for me and my doctors as we determine what treatments to try. Protection from treatments that will do more harm than good.
And of course, I want to know how I can pray for you. I murmur prayers for you throughout the day when you come to mind. And when you email me, I pray for you. I don't know lots of you, but I love getting your emails. So keep sending prayer requests.
Thank you, my friends.
I'm cheering for ya, Home Skillets.
P.S. The jasmine and orange trees are in bloom here this week. Windows are one of man's best inventions, and I'll bet heaven smells better than southern California right now. That BOGGLES my mind.
© by scj