I used to try and get off going to school as much as I could as a child. I would always pretend I was sick to not go in, and to be honest it worked a lot of the time. I don't know when I started 'being ill' all the time, but I was a fast learner. I realised that being ill the morning of school wasn't enough. So I started really plotting, really committing to being ill. I'd start the night before (genius, I know), I'd time it perfectly - as soon as I knew my mum was coming through the door I'd lie pathetically on the sofa (or, for real illness perfection and real commitment, on my bed). My mum would come in and shout 'hi', a weak and feeble 'hello' greeted her back as I groaned in 'agony', (usually at this point I would've moaned about how ill I was to my sister, who was usually overly sympathetic - thank-you Grace (laying the foundations early on)). My mum would then come in and check on me. If I was downstairs, she'd make me go to bed, I would climb the stairs - slowly, heavy breathing all the time. I'd stay in my room for the evening, when dinner was called I'd pretend to be asleep (please note: before any of this took place I'd gage the situation - what dinner would be). If they came to check on me I'd close my eyes, facing the door (surely if I was faking it I wouldn't be so fearless as to face the door). I'd then go to sleep - waking the next morning, a little earlier than usual (very unlike me). I'd go downstairs, clutching my stomach and tell my mum and dad how unwell I felt..this usually was the clincher - my mum would look at my dad and my dad at my mum and they'd tell me to go back to bed - I was too ill for school. It took all the energy within me to not jump up and down with great joy. I'd go to bed smiling (luckily, due to early waking up I was able to go back to sleep - the signs of a true illness). On other days my mum would say the immortal words of; 'Go and have a shower and see how you feel'. No words have disappointed me more.
I was never really sick, I just couldn't be bothered with school. I'm not sure whether my parents knew that or not - or maybe acting is really my forte. But I never really had that much of an illness - I was really lucky. Last year however I got sick, nothing serious, it was glandular fever (most people gasp at that, but I can't help feeling it sounds wonderfully romantic and Victorian). I got it during the summer holiday from uni - a week before my sister's wedding. However, I wasn't diagnosed till about three weeks later. I'm pretty sure my parents thought I was faking it (all too used to my school days of 'being ill'), but I was genuinely really sick. I was hospitalised (sorry for how dramatic that sounds) a few days after my sister got married and kept in for a week - they didn't know what it was. I can't really remember much of being in hospital (except a nurse kept singing 'Rose garden' and I had some hilarious moments due to morphine). I then went to stay with a really kind and Godly lady from church - she looked after me and I was really grateful (and still am). I was told I'd have to probably defer second year at university and go home. I prayed hard for healing and my parents had people at their church praying too. I couldn't bear not going into second year. Guess what? Prayer worked. I was better (I still had a lot of pain in my liver, but was able to carry on university), I went into second year. I was properly ill, like bed-bound ill for around 7 weeks - glandular fever usually takes months to clear. God had worked in me and healed me from the inside out.
One of the most poignant times of my illness was when I was woken up with the sun burning down on me - I woke up, feeling quite woozy, but as the wooziness subsided I waited for the nauseating pain of the glandular fever to set it - it didn't come. I still had the dull ache in my liver, but I could live with that. I felt better. Later that day I phoned my parents telling them how much better I felt. They were stunned and told me that one of the men in church had prayed for the sun to shine on me and for me to be healed. Amen. How great is our God?! Throughout the time of my illness, and a little bit after I prayed and worshipped God - I spent hours waiting on Him and worshipping His name - at the time it was all I could do. He strengthened me in so many ways and appeared to me. He may not have healed me straight away but the work that He did in me has made a lasting difference. I now love God with all my heart, I've seen His miracles first hand and know how great He is. He may not have healed me, but He was doing something.
God may not heal straight away, but He has the power to do so. When we're waiting on God we learn so much. A part I failed to mention was how much I needed to see God at that point in my life. I'd had a dodgy year and had been away from God. God could've healed me straight away - that would've been great, but He worked in me when I needed Him to, I don't think I would've rested on God and waited on Him as much if I had returned to full health straight away. He strengthened me when I was weak. God works like that. He knows the best plan for us. He can heal, He is a healing God who lovingly restores what needs to be restored. At the time of my illness, my faith needed restoration more than my body did. In the end He healed me, but He made sure my faith was healed. Even if God doesn't heal you, He has the power to do so. Some great people have not been healed, they continue to pray, or, in some cases, have lost the battle - but their faith and belief in God has endured and His name is victorious. God does everything for a purpose.
'O LORD my God, I called to you for help and you healed me' (Psalm 30:2)
Blessings.
May
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