A New Side of MeFor a couple weeks I've felt a prompting to ask for healing prayer for my diabetes. The last few weeks have been particularly difficult for me in regards to cravings and medication dosage changes. The cravings I'm referring to aren't "pregnancy cravings" they are healthy food cravings that I've had to cut from my diet because of carb counting-like fruit for lunch instead of a sandwich or a corn dog. I have openly expressed my irritation with God, and Richie, about all my issues. I also struggled with the idea that I would be or could be healed of diabetes. Just as Pastor Brian detailed during one of his more recent sermons I know I will be healed, what I don't know is if I'll be healed "in the now" or the "not yet". I know that God will heal me; I just don't know when he will heal me. This doubt and fear have kept me from asking for prayer.
Then I remembered something, this was the same place I found myself in when I finally broke down and asked for healing prayer for my infertility. My doubt and fear were keeping me from God's healing, the healing I know he wants me to have, the line of communication he wants me to have, the trust and faith that he wants me to have.
The Women's Conference was this past weekend. Following a wonderfully taught message, there was, of course, ministry time. I invited the Holy Spirit to come and speak to me. I opened myself up to his presence and promptings. I found myself meditating on one particular topic, my diabetes. It is difficult for me to express all the things that troubled me that night. Did I need to pray for healing? Would God heal me? How would I know I'd been healed? If I was fully healed by God then would my glucose numbers bottom out and cause problems for me? For some reason I kept thinking about my glucometer. I kept thinking about how my whole life revolved around that ridiculous glucometer. My whole life had begun to revolve around food. I was becoming more controlling and obsessive about everything I ate, every number that popped up after a meal and everything I couldn't eat. I found myself focused on all the wrong things. During that ministry time I told God I didn't want to be focused on that anymore, but I didn't know how to release that to him. How do I give up something as important as my glucose numbers to God? The very life and health of my unborn child (that he gave me) depended on it.
Once I was done talking to God, Mary Fry and I chatted it up for a while. She was telling me that after speaking vaguely about my situation with her doctor he told her I needed to have faith. Well, if that didn't ring true. I finally broke down and asked Mary to pray for healing for me. She did, and I'm so grateful. Yet, when we left that night I still felt that something wasn't right. That nagging feeling that I'd missed something lingered with me. I briefly discussed it with my friend, Amanda. I found myself saying the same thing over and over to her. My concerns were justified. My obsession was justified. The health of this baby was my responsibility, and I had to remain responsible for the sake of this gift of God. How was I to walk away from the glucometer and trust God-how irresponsible would that be!? I felt very justified in being overly concerned about my food and glucose numbers.
Saturday morning brought us another wonderful message and an equally wonderful ministry time. At the beginning of ministry time Penny announced that there were people who felt that the enemy had robbed them of something. (kind of sounded familiar) She said that the enemy had stolen something from them. (still seeming to fit me somehow) Then she said that the enemy had robbed us of joy. Holy cow that was it! I went forward for prayer. I was barely emotional yet so compelled to take myself forward. The more she spoke the more it rang true and pierced right into my very soul. I felt a hand touch my shoulder and immediately found myself falling to my knees while sobbing uncontrollably. Thora had come over to pray for me and boy did the Spirit of God move! God gave me such revelation! I had allowed the enemy to rob me of the joy of my pregnancy. God wanted me to be stupid happy, giddy and silly about the miraculous thing he'd done for me. God wanted me to feel the joy that was rightfully mine; yet by allowing fear and doubt rule in my life I'd allowed the enemy to steal that from me. I handed it over to him without question from the moment I found out about our little miracle. I pleaded with God for forgiveness for doubting him. I clearly heard him whisper in my ear, "I love you." I found renewed trust and faith. Because God had given us such a gift he would surely take care of and protect my baby-even if that meant protecting it from my own body! I found myself repenting over and over finding strength and peace as I did so. Yet, through all of this revelation, understanding and repentance I still kept going back to the ridiculous glucometer. That was still hanging in there. I told God I didn't want to doubt anymore. I told God I didn't want to find myself back in that place of justified worry and concern. I begged to not be a control freak.
I went home, emotionally drained with the same strange nagging feeling as I had the night before. Obviously progress was being made; I'd submitted and asked for healing prayer; I'd repented of my sin in allowing the enemy to take hold of me and allowing him to rob me; yet something was still missing! I began wondering what was wrong with me. Why was I so resistant to healing? Why was I so resistant to fully allowing myself to be consumed by God and his wisdom for me? It all came back to that glucometer! That stupid glucometer! That dumb machine was my Achilles heel!
Sunday morning I attended service while Richie was in class. Penny, yet again, delivered a wonderful message! She kept with the theme that Brian has had going and focused on healing. Following the message she called for people who needed to be healed. One of her points was that even Jesus had prayed twice for healing the blind man's eyes. We can't expect to be any better or any different than Jesus, so that healing prayer may likely be needed more than once. God spoke loud and clear-and I heard him! So at the end of service they called for those who needed healing prayer; I went forward again. But this time I had no idea why. I stood there praying, asking, wanting, unclear and confused. All I could think about was that stinking glucometer. I finally said to God, "But the glucometer is my proof, God; it's my proof of healing!" That was my revelationthat is what I'd been holding onto for the last couple of days. Over and over I repeated that "the glucometer is my proof". I felt a hand touch my shoulder and all at once, God spoke to me again. In a very matter-of-fact type tone with some fatherly love and wisdom mixed in there I heard him tell me, "That's right! Your glucometer is your proof." I thought, "huh?" Then he told me, "It's not proof that the enemy is right; it's proof that I'm right and have healed you." EUREKA! I realized that the enemy loves half truths and that the "justification" I'd been feeling was one of his lies. It was a half truth; yes, I needed to be concerned about my glucose numbers, but not so concerned that I allowed worry and fear rule my life. That was how I was to let it all go and let God handle it. I needed to realize that my fear wasn't of God, that my feelings of justification were of the enemy and that my glucometer was proof-proof of God's healing, not proof of the enemy's lies!
I am proud to report that since Sunday my numbers and eating have been on track, just as God intended. The proof is in the glucometer!