Healing Journey Part 5: The Message

I’d returned home from visiting family.  It was May 15, 2007.  Grant was on the road that night and I lay in our Chicago apt., soaking in silence.  Only the train rounding the bend occasionally interrupted what would have otherwise been serene.   I sat now, book in hand, purposing to finish what i had started at the genesis of my trip just days before.

Purchased at Borders before I set foot on the plane I had, for some reason, asked the Lord …  “Should I read the bible or the book?”  (I had to have something to occupy my time in the airport). As plain as day I’d “heard” in my thoughts – read the book.  It was titled 90 Minutes in Heaven and was the story of a man that died, went to heaven, then came back to earth.

I don’t remember if I put the book down or if I dropped it, but I woke up feeling sick (seizure sick) …  alone.  Lying on the floor, not quite comprehending, I wondered why I felt this way.  Understanding my reality came slowly.  Unlike other times, my notification was internal.  With the knowledge came more questions and I asked, “Lord, what is this all about?”

I rose the next morning, much like other mornings, and sat down to spend time with Jesus. I approach my time with my Father believing He has an agenda I may not be aware of.   So, often I ask Him to show me where to read, to guide me along straight paths.  He began our morning, directing my attention to Isaiah 42. Verses 5-9 stood off the page and I read them over, again and again.  God, who gives life, was speaking truth to my heart.  He was speaking to me of purpose and vision from His point of view.

I was scarcely prepared for the change the Holy Spirit would work in me through verse nine and the message that followed.  I read, “The past events have indeed happened.  Now I declare new events; I announce them to you before they occur.” A voice in my spirit followed saying, “You will be healed.”  It was as if someone was standing next to me.  I felt joy and promise for a freedom from epilepsy, but my mind instantly questioned.  I was stunned.  I was moving, pacing our apartment, but my body didn’t feel it … my mind was completely involved in the wonder and the question of the promise.   I looked out the window and smiling wide said over and over, “I’m going to be healed.”

Remembering I had been reading before the seizure, I thought it prudent to mark my spot.  Flipping through the pages I reached the place I’d left, conveniently at a chapter break.  The verse at the top of the page said, “I will give you back your health and heal your wounds, says the Lord.  Now you are called an outcast – Jerusalem for whom nobody cares.” Jeremiah 30:17.  I cried.

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