My Prayers for Healing: The Beauty of It All

This post is continued from my post earlier this week, "My Prayers for Healing: Things Start to Happen…" Click here to catch up and read that post if you missed it.

The rest of that day was encouragement after encouragement. I spent much of it catching up on the sleep I’d lost over the previous week, when I’d only been able to sock away three or four hours of sleep each night. That day, I was probably only awake that amount of time.

When I woke up for lunch, I looked down at my feet, which for the past week had been swollen so much that I could only force my feet into one pair of unlaced sneakers. Now, as I peered down, I saw my old feet again, the dainty curves of my arches and ankles looking once again like a woman’s instead of a goblin’s feet.

It was one answered prayer after another, that day.

My husband and his mom, who'd come to help look after me, both said I looked restored. My mom said she could hear the old me back in my voice. I had a glow. I had enthusiasm. I had peace. I had my collection of answered prayers staring at me as if to say, “See? I heard your prayers all along. I never forgot you.”

It’s funny because in the days leading up to all of this—before the pain even appeared—I had an old Madonna song stuck in my head. I have no idea where I even heard it but the refrain would not go away, try as hard as I might to push it out: “Put your love to the test. You know you’ve got to make him express how he feels, and, baby, then you’ll know your love is real.”

The song was stuck in my head for so long that I really began to think that maybe it meant something. Then all of this happened—and I came to trust that it really did mean something. I trusted that even in the pain, it was a way of God expressing his love to me—proving to me that his love was real. And the fact that he’d planted that idea in my head before it all started, well it gave me more faith to trust him with the rest. Spurred on by that thought, a favorite verse came to mind: “Show me your unfailing love in wonderful ways,” and became another chant that got me through some of the hardest pangs of pain.

And that he did; he showed me his love in such wonderful ways that I—and nearly everyone else around me who knew what was going on—were left in awe at his work. At the—yes—miraculous turn-around I experienced.

I looked back at all that had transgressed and began to see his hand working in it. Even the fact that most of the doctors had pushed my situation aside in the hospital, I realized that maybe that too was a gift because it gave my body time to do more healing on its own and avoid any unnecessary treatments (like a stent, which they originally thought would be necessarily to relieve the fluid that had built up in my system, likely a kidney stone that passed before any tests were done). I saw how he had worked it all out—even the most dismal and disheartening moments—to make something altogether beautiful.

That all happened about a week and a half ago. It took another week for me to gain my energy and for all the pain (especially in my back, from a week of sitting up straight around the clock) to dissipate. But I finally feel renewed, restored and back to normal. Thanks to all my answered prayers.

And someday I'll get to recount this whole story and saga to and teach her that God is with us and hears us and loves us, working all things out to be beautiful in the end.

As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man who had been blind from birth. 

“Rabbi,” his disciples asked him, “why was this man born blind? 

Was it because of his own sins or his parents’ sins?” 

“It was not because of his sins or his parents’ sins,” Jesus answered. 

“This happened so the power of God could be seen in him.”

John 9:1-3

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