July 26, 2015 - India
The Sunday afternoon heat beats through the window onto my body. I don’t feel it, though. I lay wrapped up in a Mickey Mouse sheet, shivering. The fever runs through my body like a river. Steady. My breathing becomes shallow and quick like I just ran a couple of miles. Tears run down my face as the sharp pains in my stomach increase. My head pounds. Everything sounds as loud as the trains that pass by every ten minutes. It scares me that I am struggling to breathe.
Michelle notices a change in my sickness and hands me an encouraging verse. Esther walks over and inquires about my condition. I can’t explain it. I don’t know how to speak in between the random breaths of air. She tells me I have a fever, but I have a hard time believing her because I feel like it is winter in July here.
A wet washcloth appears on my head. My eyes are closed to block out the light and hold back the tears. “Where is the pain?” Esther asks me. I muster out short words to explain what I am experiencing, though it is indescribable. I wonder how much time has passed by. Opening my eyes, I notice my team surrounding me. Esther holds my head because I feel too weak to move. My arms have a strange tingly feeling. They slowly turn numb until I can no longer move them. “I can’t move my arms,” I whisper. The team places washcloths on my arms and massages me. I can’t feel them touch my arms and that worries me. By this time I hear Janell talking on the phone and checking how my heart is. The pains in my stomach are unbearable now. I am sure my face is contorted into a mess as I try not to scream. Esther prays over me. The paralyzed feeling of numbness is also in my thighs now. I lay limp as my teammates hold up my head to force medicine down my throat. God help me. In my weakness, You are strong. You are my rock while I am lost in the slippery mud. I can’t do this on my own. I need you. Oh, I need you. Every second, I need you. I hear Esther’s prayers of comfort. She says that my Father has me in His arms. She sings Jesus, lover of my soul:
Jesus, healer of her soul
Jesus, she will never let you go
You’ve taken her from the mighty waves
You set her feet upon the rock
And now she knows
She loves you, she needs you
Though her health may fail, she’ll never let You go
Her Savior, her closest friend
She will worship You until the very end
Keziah whispers a reminder that all I need is to touch the cloak of Jesus and have faith as small as a mustard seed to be healed. There is a change in the atmosphere. The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, surrounds me. I see light of a different kind coming from particular parts of the room. My brain processes them as angels surrounding us. The comfort of the Holy Spirit and presence of angels relaxes my breathing to a decent pace. I know they are angels but I wonder if God shows me what I think they look like or if I really see angels. I think about how people paralyzed in a life of poverty feel. My mind turns to those I encounter at the train station. I am sure I am not experiencing even a fraction of the pain some people experience. Jesus willingly felt nails pierce his body for me. I decide to trust God. He is greater than my pain and helps me in my helplessness. God, if it’s my time, take me to Your kingdom. But, I do believe You can heal me. I hear God say, “My daughter, I am Your healer and I will heal you.” All of a sudden, I can feel my arms. I move my hands. I cry with joy. “I can feel my arms!” My legs in a couple seconds feel alive too. In moments, I jump up and shout for joy. I look around and see my friends on their knees, praying. They are a delight to me and more than anything I feel happy to be alive and with them. All the glory, honor, and praise is for our Father. My prayer and song is for the Lord, my healer.
To be able to experience helplessness at a new level is a blessing. I felt completely stuck and unable to move. Every day, I walk through one of the biggest red light districts. There are girls who are born into this life and feel stuck in a system that we call sex trafficking. I wonder what they call it. Their black hole? Their paralyzed normal life? Only way to feed their kid? There are people who can’t escape. A glimpse of that leads me back to the fact that I need God to lean on. I couldn’t explain the pain. Just as many women can’t explain theirs. Just as God surrounds me as a loving Father, so He surrounds them. Just as Jesus is my healer, so Jesus is their healer.
And when the men of that place recognized Jesus, they sent word to all the surrounding country. People brought all their sick to him and begged him to let the sick just touch the edge of his cloak, and all who touched him were healed.
Written by Alyssa