My Journey (from Sickness and Near Death to Health)
I am an amateur at writing but was moved by the Holy Spirit to write about my experience. I am depending on the Holy Spirit to guide me through this endeavor. This is my testimony, my story, about my battle with Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis. I traveled from church to church, Sunday School classes, Bible studies, Wednesday night prayer services, but never reached the numbers of people that I wanted to testify to. My testimony is too lengthy to limit it to a 30-minute talk. To cut it short, would be a disservice to the listener. I felt that I did not convey enough emphasis on God’s miracles, or the prayers that were prayed for me along my journey.
My saga started in early 2018. I hope through my testimony I can reach those who are in despair over a diagnosis of some terminal illness. My struggle could be applied to any problem that seems insurmountable. Remember, God is on your side. Have faith. Cast your cares on Him. No matter how bad it looks, never stop believing in God. Keep your faith strong and remain positive. Negativity invites the devil.
A brief background about myself, I was baptized at the age of nine. I received Christ and the gift of God, at Vacation Bible School, in the summer of 1960. Without being rooted in the Word and with peer pressure, the world, with all its temptations, lured me away from my intended path.
By thirteen, I was in full-fledged rebellion. I rebelled against school, authority, my parents and church. I did go to church with my parents, but skipped whenever I could get away with it. By fifteen, I discovered girls. There was little chance of going back to my original intent, to follow Jesus.
I married at twenty. Five years later, when our son was born, we made the decision to regularly attend Church. Then we bought a boat. Soon church life was in the rearview mirror. Church was replaced with weekends on the lake with friends. A few more years passed, as a result of the lack of being in church, and not renewing our minds in the Word daily, we drifted apart and got a divorce.
After my divorce, on several occasions, I was drawn to get back in church, to be the Jesus follower I had committed to being when I was nine. I would attend for a few months, but the world would always call, when I began to make progress. There was about 35 years of this behavior. I would find myself in a desperate situation and turn to the Lord for help. He never failed to answer my prayers. I thought that I would change my life someday. But I kept repeating this scenario, until I was 67. This is where my story begins.
I thought I had it made. I was 66 years old, living comfortably on a small bluff that overlooked a beautiful river meandering by. I was so close, I could stand on my back deck, toss a rock and hit the middle of the Soque river. I had retired from the fire department with plenty of income from my pensions, 401, my IRA, my investments and Social Security income.
I had always been a good dancer. I could be found, every weekend, on the dance floor somewhere. My main haunt was the dance hall at the American Legion in the town of Alpharetta. I had met a smooth dancer there that I was fond of. And whenever we were there on the same night, she and I would partner up. I felt like I was on top of the world.
I noticed that I was beginning to tire after 3 or 4 dances, and needed to sit out a few, needing to catch my breath. In late November, in 2017, I confided this to my lady friend. She told me to go to the doctor and get checked out right away. But being proud, I said it was nothing more time in the gym, wouldn’t fix.
I stopped socializing at the gym and got serious about my workouts. I added vitamins and herbs to my diet. I felt better for a while, but feel now, that it was just a psychological effect. By my birthday, late January 2018, I began to avoid stairs, whenever possible. It was winter, and I stopped hiking the trails around my home. No one at the dance hall, seemed to notice that I was sitting a lot of dances out, preferring to socialize.
Then, when I would see my lady friend, she would ask “have you seen a doctor yet?” “No, but I’m going to.” “When? It could be your heart trying to tell you something.”
That March, I found myself in a situation where I had to climb 5 flights of stairs. When I reached the top, I thought I would die! I could barely catch my breath. My heart pounded in my ears, loudly. My eyesight dimmed momentarily.
I left the doctor’s office. Went home and hit my knees, praying. I began to confess my sins, but quickly realized, there were too many to remember. I had been a serial sinner. “Why would God ever help a sinner like me?” At some point I just said, “Lord, please forgive me for the life that I have led. I have done nothing to deserve it, but please heal me.” I was depending on the Lord’s goodness and mercy.
Then, I remembered God’s love for us, is not based on our performance, but on our faith in Jesus. Our relationship is based on believing what Jesus did for us, dying for our sins, past, present and future. If you fall away, you can come back. His arms are always open. We all have come short of the Glory of God. No one has not sinned, no not one (Romans 3:23). We are but human, and we fail to be the Jesus followers that we aspire to be.
If you are not a Christian reading this, Romans 3:22 says, Righteousness comes to you, from God, through faith in Jesus Christ, to all who believe. And Romans 3:24 states, that we are justified, freely, by His grace, by our redemption through Jesus Christ, who died for our sins.
Now, you know why I did not get severely depressed and throw in the towel over this diagnosis. I knew that I was either going to live or die and go to Heaven. I was a winner, either way. I was resigned to the fact that I could die in 3 to 5 years, but my hope rests in Jesus.
I am home now. As of this writing, it has been nineteen months since my double lung transplant. There have been a few speed bumps along the way, a mild acute focal rejection, referred to as a 1A rejection. That was treated with a regimen of prednisone. The Lord was looking out for me. I am doing very well. I return to for tests every three months. I lift weights at the gym, ride a recumbent bike five miles, every other day. And I occasionally walk a mile around the neighborhood. I leave you with a few parting thoughts to ponder.
Try God
Also read:
- The Ordinance of Firstfruits (2): Debunking the Myths
- Understanding God: He Starts Afresh
- We are Nothing Without Each Other
- Opened and Closed
- I Prayed to God For My Dad’s Life
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